


Links to the Past

by withcameraandpen



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: AU Crossover, F/M, Lorulean Champions, Politics, Survivor Guilt, endgame link/zelda, eventual Dark Link, it like botw's version of lorule, so many fantasy politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-01-24 04:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 47,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withcameraandpen/pseuds/withcameraandpen
Summary: Link and Zelda are very good at saving worlds. So good that Ravio, an advisor to the monarch of Lorule, hops through time and space to ask for their help. But something else is waiting for Link and Zelda in Lorule--a new threat, and faces they had long thought dead. Zelda is eager to defeat the demon of their past, but when they find that the counterparts of Hyrule's Champions have been called in to help, Link has much more trouble putting Ganon in the ground.





	1. A Quiet Night in Hyrule

The traveler landed hard on all fours, his knapsack tumbling from his back.

“Rough landing, huh?” he snickered to himself, gathering his supplies. Food, a cloak, and a few goodies he managed to squirrel away in secret. She had stressed to him the importance of traveling light, but he trusted his gadgets and his gut—and it was his neck on the chopping block, anyway. They ought to allow him whatever he wanted!

He dusted himself off and stood, taking in his surroundings. He had arrived in the ruins of a temple that housed a statue of the goddess Hylia, gazing serenely at where worshipers used to kneel. Huh—so they have ruins here, too.

As he left the temple and descended the overgrown stairs, he passed through three antechambers, each dedicated to the virtues of power, wisdom, and courage. But these, too, had been whittled and weathered away by the elements, nearly obscuring the sacred emblems on the ground. Still, thanks to his _brilliant_ powers of deductive reasoning, he realized that he had landed in another Temple of Time. That was what their goddess looked like? She seemed nice.

As he explored further into the quiet plain, leaving the Temple of Time behind and walking towards the horizon, the traveler noticed how barren his surroundings seemed. A few packs of Bokoblins, but no Hylians, Zoras, or anything resembling a peaceful race. Where was everyone?

Soon, he got his answer. He reached a crumbling wall and peered down, finding a steep cliff and more ruins waiting at the bottom, which was nearly obscured by fog. Wind whistled along this sheer edge, strong enough that he backed down a few paces, away from where a mighty wind risked his safety. Further away were settlements, he supposed, though he didn't see any bustling metropolises from here.

“Geez. And I thought we had it bad.” He looked off into the distance, squinting as the last light of the day faded, and saw a towering castle waiting for him. “Gotta be Hyrule Castle. See ya soon!”

He glanced behind him at the massive mountain that had leered over him since his arrival. Even if there was an easy way down behind it, that mountain would take way too long to traverse. Good thing he brought his goodies, then!

He reached into his knapsack and pulled out a contraption of wood and cloth. He’d devised a method of folding it up for easy storage, totally mechanical and very impressive, if he could speak so boldly. Magic was never his forte, and to him, the real magic was elbow grease and ingenuity.

He unfolded the contraption until it looked like a paraglider once again, a gift from the Rito. He walked back to the edge and took a deep breath, staring down the far drop. That was what the paraglider was for, sure, but the leap wasn’t any easier to make.

But he thought of his home, and of her, who always gave him courage. Then, with a quick prayer to the goddess, he leaped off, paraglider held high above him. The paraglider caught him out of the air, the sudden stop rough on his stomach, and found a strong gust of wind to follow. The wind carried Ravio the traveler towards Hyrule Castle.

 

&

 

It was the night before Princess Zelda’s birthday, and Link couldn’t sleep.

A year since the Calamity’s end, and the hero’s admiration for the full moon—not a blood moon, which spelled danger at every turn for him—had not worn off. The training yard of Hyrule Castle looked unrecognizable from its daylight form, when it was populated with scores of newly-knighted fighters preparing to enter the Hylian army. Bulking up Hyrule’s military hadn’t been high on the princess’s list of priorities, but Link had insisted upon it.

Now the training yard was empty and silent. Link drew the Master Sword, held it in front of him, and then closed his eyes. A breath in, a breath out, and then he lifted the sword high and slashed powerfully down, right to left.

Up and around, and back down on his left. Spinning on his heel and blocking the strike of the imaginary soldier behind him. It was the training regiment he had retained over the last one hundred years, and while Ganon was firmly sealed away, Link pushed himself hard to remember each swing of the sword that had, as his fallen friend Daruk had said, pounded Ganon into oblivion.

 _Daruk._ Link swung the Master Sword hard to the left, cleaving another imaginary opponent in two. _Revali._ He dodged artfully to the side, stabbing at the air with the tip of his sword. _Urbosa._ Urbosa would tell him that training without a shield was hardly training at all. _And Mipha—_

His strike faltered, falling out of the disciplined pattern and into a wild slash. _Mipha._

“Link?” He turned around and found Zelda at the edge of the moonlight, bundled in a navy dressing gown. “What are you doing? I saw you from my tower.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

She nodded. “I couldn’t, either. I can’t stop thinking about tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, they were spending the day in New Castle Town to celebrate Zelda’s one hundred and nineteenth birthday, where they would mark all the progress they’d made since destroying Calamity Ganon. They would mingle with the citizens, feast with them, dance with them, and enjoy the future she and Link had fought so hard to bring them. 

Ganon had returned on Zelda’s seventeenth all those years ago.

Zelda heaved a sigh and moved to a nearby low wall to sit. Link sheathed the Master Sword. “Oh, Link, I don’t want to pull you from training.”

He shook his head and gestured beside her. “May I sit?”

“Of course.” He felt her eyes on him as he sat beside her, inquisitive as always. Once upon a time, he would have remained on his feet, stoic and ever-vigilant. And there were still forces out there who would rather see the princess dead, but in this quiet pocket of night, they could be what they had become: friends who lived through the same tragedy, the closest friends of all.

“I can’t help it,” she said, her voice low as though someone in the empty yard would overhear. “It’s superstitious to be so fearful, I know. It’s not logical. We sealed Ganon away together, and yet…bad things have happened on my birthday before. I’m not keen to see them happen again.”

“So what if they do?”

She blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“Think about it. The way I see it, there’s nothing that could happen that’s worse than the Great Calamity, and you already put a stop to that. So as long as it’s not another one of those, you can take care of it.”

He nudged her shoulder. “We can take care of it.”

A smile flickered across her face, but it didn’t stay for long. “I don’t have my sealing power anymore,” she replied glumly.

“But you _are_ pretty handy with a bow now.” The Yiga were still out and about, after all. And when Zelda asked him to train her in shooting a bow, how was he to turn down his princess? “Nothing will happen tomorrow. And if something does, we’re capable of handling it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Then why are you still training?”

Link fell silent. Silence was ordinarily a safe retreat for him, giving him the ability to collect his thoughts, but he knew why he was still training, and Zelda’s question forced him to make the phenomenon real.

So he said nothing. He said nothing about the deaths of the Champions, their friends and his comrades in arms, who fell the day Calamity Ganon struck. He even missed Revali, that constantly-preening idiot—who was no idiot, Link conceded. A skilled warrior all the same, even if he needled Link like a tailor. Zelda had had a century to mourn their friends, but to him, their deaths were fresh, since he had lost them and his memories of them, too. Regaining his mind tasted so sharply bittersweet.

“I train because if I don’t, Revali wins.” He turned to her with a smirk. “He never believed I trained hard enough, and that I was only as good as him because I had the Master Sword. And, frankly, even if I gave up the contest, it would be an insult to his memory. He would want to earn his victory, not see me hand it to him.”

Zelda chuckled. “I remember Daruk chiding him for that!”

“All the time, Zelda. Daruk would lecture him constantly, but the lesson never took. All Daruk wanted were Champions that worked as a unit, but Revali was never satisfied.”

“He always got on Urbosa’s nerves, I remember.” Zelda was smiling again, and a spark had come into her eyes. “And sometimes she wouldn’t wait until he was out of the room to do so! But he never seemed to grate at Mipha, I don’t think.”

Link’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. “No, he did. But she only ever admitted it to me in private.”

“Really?” 

Mipha seemed an unlikely addition to the team of skilled, battle-hardened warriors thanks to her tender nature, but Link knew there was more to her than the soft-spoken sweetness. Her trident would flash like lightning as she wielded it expertly, sinking the prongs into the flank of the Shatterback Lynel with an underlying strength.

“Really. Even when it was just the pair of us in Vah Ruta. She checked the windows before saying it, as though he’d be flapping right outside.” Part of him was still surprised that the armor she had crafted for him fit like a glove a century after he wore it for the first time.

She shook her head, a wistful smile on her face. “It’s hard to imagine her saying a bad word about anyone,” Zelda admitted.

“She rarely did. You knew it was bad when _Mipha_ admitted not to liking someone.”

“It must have been.” Zelda was looking at him again with the stare she reserved for her test subjects; she was governing Hyrule, of course, but she refused to let go of her research hobby. Link’s smile slipped away when she asked, “That’s it, isn’t it? Tomorrow is the anniversary of her death.”

He retreated into silence. There was nothing for him to say. Zelda’s year of observing him had given her an unsettling ability to read him. “I should have realized. I’m sorry, Link. If you would prefer not to take part in the festivities—”

“I’ll be there.” Link was a man of action, and it would be better to be miserable around a flurry of activity than to be miserable while alone. “I would never miss my princess’s birthday. Only a few more until you become my queen.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, when I come of age at twenty-one, you’ll be right next to me at the coronation feast. Not as my knight, I hope.”

“Then as what?”

It was difficult to tell in the moonlight, but it was almost like Zelda had gotten flustered. “As my friend. Of course. That’s what I meant.” She stood and tightened the belt of her dressing gown. “If I stay out any longer, I fear I’ll catch a chill. Goodnight, Link.”

He stood as well. “I’ll walk you back to your tower.”

“Don’t you want to continue training?” she asked, glancing at the empty yard.

He shook his head. “I’m done.”

She nodded stiffly. “Very well.” Together, they walked back into Hyrule Castle, weaving through the half-rebuilt corridors until they had climbed back to Zelda’s tower.

Link’s own room was not that far away, though Link didn’t feel any stronger of a call to his bed. He was used to the cramped bunks of the citadel, where Hyrule’s soldiers were trained into knights, and then the straw-stuffed beds in Hyrule’s stables. The feather-soft bed didn’t suit him much. He nodded to her and said, 

“Goodnight, Zelda. Happy birthday.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Link. And thank you for what you said out there. I do feel better about tomorrow.”

“Good.” At least one of them had a hope of sleeping.

 

Link found himself tossing and turning that night, staring at the darkened ceiling and wondering if he shouldn’t just stay up and read until dawn, and claim he had fallen ill. The princess would see through him, but she would certainly be merciful. Yes, Zelda understood…would someone be there with her tomorrow? She should have someone close to her to celebrate her birthday…Zelda shouldn’t be alone…

_Darkness. Link was surrounded. He gripped the Master Sword tightly, slashing at the writhing force. He made contact and carved it open; out leapt a flash of violet, and a hand reaching for him._

_But the gash closed up before he could grab it. Tendrils of darkness wove around the blade of the Master Sword and clamped down, wrenching it from his hand. No sword, no shield—what would Urbosa say?—as he faced down this darkness. Two glowing pink dots appeared in the darkness, and Link had an unpleasant awareness that these were the darkness’s eyes._

_Suddenly, the darkness began to turn a violent shade of maroon, highlighting the bulk of this creature and the strength of the tendrils that had wrapped around Link’s legs. He was being swallowed by this darkness, a monster with great power, malice with a name—_

Link bolted straight up in bed, heart pounding. “Ganon!”


	2. Birthdays and Bad News

The sun shone, the birds sang, and New Castle Town was overflowing with joy. Flowers were strung across the town square, the petals floating gently onto the crowd of dancers, who were happily bouncing to the bards’ jaunty music. Zelda was right in the thick of the frivolity, dancing with the children of New Castle Town. Silent Princess flowers were woven into her hair, surrounding Zelda with their sweet smell as she danced the day away.

It was her birthday, but it was also Hyrule’s new beginning. Her birthday last year was buried under the castle’s renovations and their trips across Hyrule to rekindle alliances. This time last year, she and Link had shared a quiet dinner on the beach in Lurelin Village, watching the sunset and, in Link’s case, insisting that she forget how difficult the village elder had been earlier that day. _Lurelin has functioned perfectly well without the crown’s help for one hundred years,_ she had said. _Why should they need it now?_

But Link had fried up some fish, sat beside her, and told her, in about as many words, that enough was enough. Link was still looking out for her, though instead of vanquishing Ganon, it came in the form of telling her to shut up and enjoy Hyrule at peace. She was always grateful for that evening, and least for how good his fish fry was.

That evening, Link had smiled, and talked long and openly with her, whiling the time away like they had all of it in the world. Now, though, she couldn’t help looking back at him and wonder where her friend had gone, in place of the surly guard that stood at the edge of the square, hands at his sides, the Master Sword slung across his back. She didn’t understand why he wanted to bring the legendary blade with him into New Castle Town, today of all days. He was just telling her there was nothing to worry about, wasn’t he?

Long ago, her wayward heart had set itself on Link. So much time had passed and so much had changed, including her feelings, but as close as they were now, he still seemed distant, and she hesitated to do anything he wasn’t ready for.

Today was her day, though, and she refused to let him mope around when he could be merry. She said goodbye to the gaggle of children and walked over to Link, standing out in the crowd in his Champion’s Tunic. He watched her come to him with almost a hunter’s gaze, calculating and wary.

“Will you dance with me?” she asked. “Just once?”

He shook his head. He wasn’t like this last night, when he had soothed the fears in her heart. Today, though, he was as silent as they day they met, dutiful and…burdened.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was lower. “Something’s wrong. I know it.”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Didn’t get much sleep, is all. You know I was having trouble.”

This was more than sleeplessness. She had seen Link spend sleepless nights in the observatory or the balcony of the dining hall (he liked to be around fresh air). This was something she had seen most often in the first weeks after Ganon’s sealing. This was _fear._

“Link, you’re scaring me,” she pleaded. “What’s wrong?”

He met her eyes for the first time, and she saw that fear living in them, as fresh as an open wound.

 

&

 

Ravio trudged along the paths of Hyrule Field, wishing he was any good at capturing a horse.

He had seen plenty on his travels, but he was absolutely lousy at sneaking around, and none of his gadgets could help. He had passed a stable late in the night and debated stopping there, but it would take him too out of his way. Princess Hilda had also stressed that time was of the essence, and he was much more willing to pay heed to that warning.

He hadn’t stopped to sleep at night and he hadn’t stopped for lunch today, choosing only to munch on an apple and keep walking. He should have figured out how to fold up a horse and bring it along with him!

At least Hyrule Castle loomed nearer and nearer, almost frighteningly so. It was grand and all, but it was nothing like the real thing.

And as he walked closer, he saw that the cluster of buildings before the castle was packed with people, all bouncing to a tune that he could catch snippets of on the wind. A celebration, huh? Good for them.

It was too bad he’d bring it all crashing down.

 

&

 

“Have you had dreams like this before?”

Link leaned against the wooden wall of a home, arms folded and head down. “No. Why?”

“Because the more of them you have, the better you can interpret them.” Zelda began to pace, her mind chugging along a mile a minute. She had dragged them to the edge of New Castle Town, away from the celebration and the happiness and the people that could come under fire, if Link’s dream panned out. “We can contact the Sheikah. They may have a lead on where to find someone to interpret dreams. Impa dabbled in it when she was younger, so maybe we can get a quick opinion from her—”

“Zelda, no.” Link walked towards her, reaching his hands out until he thought better of it. “Spend the rest of the day with your people and celebrate your birthday.”

“Absolutely not! Who knows how much time we have?”

“We can leave it for one day!”

“One day could be all we have. We thought we had time when Calamity Ganon arose, remember?” She shook her head and resumed pacing, biting her thumbnail. She knew something would happen! She knew peace would spiral away from her today! Her kingdom was being threatened again, and they knew the aggressor was the foe that had plunged Hyrule into its century-long Great Calamity. Ganon was returning, and all they had was a warning in the form of a vision. But fortune tellers had shown them the way last time; maybe this time, they needed the aid of dream interpreters. 

His frown deepened. “I shouldn’t have told you.”

“And what? Let me waste time while the secret killed you?” she huffed. “I saw the look on your face. Don’t pretend you weren’t scared of this, too!”

Link balked and fell silent. Zelda ran a hand over her hair, dislodging some of the flowers. “At any rate, we should be preparing. I’ll end the festivities and go back to the castle—”

“Zelda, what if it’s _just_ a nightmare?” He folded his arms, his shoulders hunching. “I have no shortage of those.”

“You tell me if it’s just a nightmare.” Link had become more open since he awoke from the Shrine of Resurrection, but he still never showed when he was the least bit upset. But out there in the square, with the frivolity and the townspeople, he couldn’t hide how much this dream had rattled him to his bones. It wasn’t just a nightmare, and they both knew it.

Link was silent, staring hard at her. “That’s what I thought. Until we know how much time we have, we must hurry to ensure that we’re not faced with a second Calamity. It could turn up at our doorstep any moment—”

“Excuse me!”

Zelda and Link turned at the same time and found a traveler in a purple cloak hurrying towards him, a bulging knapsack slung over his shoulder. He had brown eyes and raven-black hair, but otherwise, he was a stunning double of the Hero of Hyrule himself. The hair was the same kind of messy, their build was similar, and the traveler’s smile was identical to a smile Zelda had definitely seen before on Link—rarely, but she knew it existed.

“You didn’t tell me you had family.”

Link’s eyes were locked on the traveler. The fingers on his left hand twitched. “I don't.”

The traveler finally drew up to where they stood and dropped his knapsack. It hit the ground with a peculiar symphony of scrapes and thuds. “Well, ain’t you a handsome fella!” he said to Link, lightly punching him in the shoulder. “Didn’t think finding ya would be so easy!”

“ _Finding_ me?” Link’s hand moved toward the Master Sword. “Who are you?”

The traveler was unperturbed by Link’s demand. “Ain’t it obvious? I’m you!”

“Me?”

“Strictly speaking, I’m you from another world.” He beamed at Link and extended his hand, as though he hadn’t just shattered Zelda’s understanding of their world. 

“My name’s Ravio. What’s yours?”

She and Link exchanged an incredulous glance. Another world? One where a double of Link existed? Just where was this, and how did they find them?

“That’s none of your business, until you tell us more.” Zelda planted her feet in front of Link, hands on her hips. “Explain. What do you mean by another world?”

“Precisely that, ma’am.” Ravio bowed to Zelda. “I’d recognize you anywhere, Your Grace.”

“You know me?”

“I know my version of you from Lorule.”

So there was a version of her, too? Was this a land of twins? Was it a secret of Hyrule that everyone was born with a twin, only to have one spirited away under the cover of night?

“Is that what you call your home?” Link interjected. Ravio nodded. “There’s no such province or even town called that in Hyrule.”

“Cause I didn’t come from Hyrule,” he replied, speaking slowly, like a child’s tutor. “I came from a world called Lorule that’s—okay, let’s try this instead.”

He reached and plucked a petal off one of the Silent Princesses woven into Zelda’s hair. She cried out, and Ravio hastily said, “My apologies, Your Grace. My princess and I are rather close. I forgot myself.”

“Just make your point!”

“Of course, Princess.” Ravio held the petal out to them, showing the side with the bright blue tint. “This side is Hyrule, right? That’s what this place is called?”

Zelda nodded. Ravio flipped the petal over to show off the pure-white side of the petal, which was wrinkled from his thumb. “That’s Lorule. That side’s where Lorule is.”

Link and Zelda exchanged another glance. Doubt was written all over his face, though for Zelda, seeing him and Ravio side-by-side made pretty compelling proof. “So Lorule is…another world. A world that reflects on ours?”

“And ours does the same to yours.” Ravio beamed at them. “My princess is a smart cookie, too. You’d get along.”

“How’d you find us?” Link butted in, only now lowering his hand from his weapon. “How did you get here?”

“And why did you come?” It had clearly taken a great deal of effort to bring Ravio here, otherwise this Lorule would have been as easily traveled to as Kakariko Village. To be able to manipulate space like this was no small task, and great upheavals like this only happened for dire reasons.

Ravio’s smile fell. “Yeah, that. We, uh, need your help, because Lorule is about to burn to the ground.”


	3. Same Peril, Different World

Ravio the traveler was ensconced in Hyrule Castle’s library, seated at a reading table and surrounded by the royal guard. Link stood at the other side (the guard had been his idea) with Zelda, who had confiscated Ravio’s knapsack and was inspecting his wares, one by one. 

“Careful with that!” Ravio called when Zelda pulled out a long rod with four broad blades on one end. “I’m tinkering with it still.”

“What is it?” she asked, holding it up to the light. Suddenly, she was whisked off the floor and twenty feet in the air, clinging to the gadget and shrieking.

“Zelda!” Link was already bolting towards her, but she was already descending slowly to the ground, laughing all the while. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just fine, Link.” She pushed past him and went to Ravio, her eyes on the contraption all the time. “What is this? It’s a marvelous contraption.”

Ravio beamed. “I’m calling it the Tornado Rod for now,” he said, “but I’m seeing if it sticks. Sounds a little kitchy to me.”

“It’s got a ring to it.” The cloud of worry on Zelda’s face from their earlier conversation had disappeared as soon as she had the chance to look at Ravio’s supplies. She seemed totally convinced of Ravio’s story, but Link didn’t give his ground so easily. It was all too odd for him to casually accept that there was a reflection of Hyrule where another version of him lived—especially this chipper, perky version of himself. Zelda was thrilled with the scientific intrigue, but he had learned to be more suspicious of gifts that came from nowhere. 

Zelda gestured back to Ravio’s belongings, which included a foldable version of Link’s own paraglider, a gargantuan hammer, and a strange magnifying glass with a purple-tinged lens. Link didn’t like the look of what appeared to be a totally innocuous dagger’s hilt—if it looked like junk but was stored with this traveler’s most precious belongings, one wondered what was concealed within. “Did you craft all these yourself?”

“I’m the royal inventor of the Lorulean court.” Ravio puffed his chest out. “And one of Princess Hilda’s most trusted advisers.”

Zelda might be wowed by the prospect of Lorule, but _one_ of them had to think like a soldier. “If you needed aid,” he interrupted, “why would the court send a valuable adviser instead of troops?”

“Because it’s my invention that allowed me to come here.” Ravio made to stand, but the intimidating stiffening of the guards around him kept him firmly in his seat. “My princess raised the same concern, but I insisted that if something went wrong and I was trapped on the other side, I would be able to repair my own invention and return. It’s still a prototype, after all.”

“Are you racing the clock?” Zelda asked. “Do you know when Ganon will return to your world?”

“Soon, according to a prophecy our scholars uncovered.”

“Your Grace!” That was Paya, though Link could barely see her silver bun over the stacks of books in her arms. Paya was here for a dry run at learning government work. Impa was worried that her granddaughter wasn’t as worldly as she herself had been when she assumed the role of leader of the Sheikah, but Paya was taking to the work far easier than anyone had expected. “I found a few mentions of this ‘Lorule,’ as he described. Legends tell of a time when a Hylian hero crossed into Lorule to save their kingdom.”

Ravio nodded vigorously. “Yeah! The hero of Lorule, borrowed from the land of light. He saved our world as we knew it.”

Zelda believed Ravio, and the records of the Hylian library believed him, too. Confronted with this evidence, and the sight before his own eyes of this near-perfect copy of himself was pretty convincing, too. Not to mention the striking familiarity of his plea for help: the fear of an ancient evil’s rise and the race against time to stop it.

“Did you try reaching out to your neighbors?” Link asked. “Assembling your allies seems much simpler than trying to reach a parallel world.”

“We’re doing that! We’re rounding up all our forces as we speak! But, well, the thing is…you know, when Ganon’s the threat, you kinda need a hero of legend, and we don’t have one of those. Another world might.”

“You don’t have a hero?” Link repeated. “Is it not you?”

He heaved a sigh. “We have no way to know.”

“Have you tried drawing the Master Sword?” The simplest of all measures to defeat Ganon would get the sword that seals the darkness into the hand destined to wield it. Ravio was clearly intelligent and valued by his court—had they not thought of that? “The Sword chooses the hero.”

“Yeah, but we don’t have a Sword.” Ravio looked shamefully up at the Hylians. “I don’t know about your history, but our Calamity struck ten thousand years ago, and when it did, it took care to destroy our Master Sword. Now that it’s coming again, we don’t have anything to fight it. The legend of the Hylian hero gave us hope. A slim one, yeah, but it was still hope.”

No Master Sword, no hero, and a sliver of a chance that they could find both of those elsewhere. A hundred years ago, the Hyrule court had appointed Sheikah scientists to program the Guardians to fight against Ganon, and had unearthed the Divine Beasts and selected pilots who underwent strict training regimens. The Loruleans were grasping at straws. Did they have none of this? No Sheikah wisdom, no ancient relics?

“Please, Link.” Slowly, as if to appease wild dogs, Ravio stood, eyeing the surly guards. “We’re desperate. If we weren’t, we wouldn’t be clawing our way into a parallel kingdom for help, would we?”

Zelda toyed with the flower petal Ravio had torn off in his demonstration, wrinkling the soft petal as she thought. Her eyes were locked on Ravio’s gadgets. He could practically see the gears in her head turning, frantically processing the information and hoping to spit out an answer. The question, of course, was how to stop Lorule’s Ganon, because there was no way they weren’t going to help Ravio.

He met Ravio’s eyes. Was this what Link looked like when he was genuine, or was this look of clear, evident honesty unique to his double?

Zelda turned her gaze on Link. “This coming right after the vision you had makes me uneasy. You knew Ganon was coming back, but in an entirely different kingdom.”

“Zelda,” he said, his voice low, “if this traveler can cross into Hyrule from a parallel world, what’s to stop Ganon from doing the same?”

They could justify rushing to Lorule’s aid however they wanted. He saw in her eyes the same pain in his heart; Lorule was careening towards their own Calamity. What kind of leaders would they be if they let it happen? What kind of survivors would they be if they didn’t pass their wisdom down? 

The princess’ voice had gone even quieter than his. “Are you sure you want to become Lorule’s hero, too? You’ve already given everything you could as Hyrule’s hero. I will leave the decision with you.”

There was no decision to make. “I’ll go. I’ll go right this minute. I’ve got the Sword right here.”

Zelda nodded. “Then I’ll go with you.”

He balked. “Hyrule needs its ruler. We can’t leave the kingdom totally unprotected.”

“If I’m loaning my finest warrior out to anyone, I’ll want to see them personally to seal the deal.” Zelda turned to the guards. “Return to your posts. Paya, I’d like to appoint you as my regent.”

Paya balked as the guards dispersed from around Ravio, who sighed with relief. “Y-You want me to rule while you’re gone?” Paya spluttered. "That's such a big--are you sure?”

She smiled kindly at her.“And I can’t imagine a better person to leave in charge.”

“It’s the best dry run I can imagine,” Link muttered. Paya was capable, sure, and they were racing the clock. Though Paya had already exceeded everyone in the castle’s expectations—maybe, like the gemstones of Death Mountain, it would take intense pressure to bring out the best in her.

“Paya, come with me, and we’ll talk about what you need to know.” Zelda looked at Link. “Link, I’d like you to get supplies together for this journey. Ravio, will you help him?”

Ravio leaped from his seat. “Of course! But, Your Grace, can I ask for one thing?”

“What?”

“A map of Hyrule,” he said bashfully. “We had to hope for the best when I came over from Lorule, but it would help to have a map in case we have to do it again.”

 

An hour later, Zelda had returned to the library in her traveling clothes, the Sheikah Slate hanging from her belt and the Hylian Shield in her hands. Link had packed according to Ravio’s recommendations, of which there was only one: history books, and all of them. They were stacked on the table, ready and waiting to be packed into his knapsack.

She walked to Link and offered the Shield to him. “I figured taking this with us couldn’t go wrong,” she said. “And however long we remain in Lorule, it will be nice to see something with Hyrule’s crest upon it.”

“Thank you.” Link slung the Shield across his back. “Ravio, we’re ready to depart whenever you are.”

“Gotcha!” Ravio shoved the books into his knapsack and then threw his inventions in after. Only the paper map he asked for remained out, which he was looking over before that, too, went into his bag. Once it was slung over his shoulder, he turned to the Hylians and said, “Now we gotta set out for the Temple of Time. That’s the place I came through, and the one that’ll get us to Lorule Castle.”

“Well, Ravio, you might be pleased to learn that we have not sat idle with our own toys, either.” She pulled out the Sheikah Slate. “This is an ancient artifact of the Sheikah. It can teleport us all over Hyrule, right to the Temple of Time.”

“Really?” Ravio’s eyes lit up. “Hot dog! When you have that, why were you so impressed by my dinky little Tornado Rod?”

Zelda chuckled. “Gather close, the pair of you. We managed to broaden the Slate’s capabilities and are currently working on teleporting multiple bodies, but it’s still a little tricky. Squeeze in.”

Link and Ravio moved closer to Zelda. Ravio was gazing at the Slate, absolutely stunned at the detailed map of Hyrule Zelda was poring over. “That’s beautiful, Your Grace.”

“It’s not our creation. It belongs to the Sheikah, who have kindly let us keep it.” She moved the crosshairs over to the Great Plateau. “Where should we go, Link?”

“The Shrine of Resurrection. Easy downhill walk to the Temple of Time.”

Zelda moved the crosshairs over the Shrine of Resurrection’s icon. “Away we go.”

The feeling of being taken apart had become old hat to Link, who once used the Slate to criss-cross Hyrule in moments. But it had been so long since he used it that when he, Zelda, and Ravio were reassembled at the Shrine of Resurrection, the nausea he felt in his first dozen uses had returned with a violent revenge. He stumbled toward the cool slate wall of the chamber, pressing his body against it to soothe his thumping heart.

“Is it—huff—always like that?” panted Ravio, bent over, hands on knees.

“Wears off sooner or later,” Link replied, also breathing heavily. Zelda seemed totally unperturbed, though he noticed she had gone pale, and a light sheen of sweat had come over her face. 

He pushed off the wall. “Let’s get moving. It wears off soon.”

They marched from the Shrine of Resurrection and down the gentle slope to the Temple of Time. Link had woken up after a century-long spell in the Shrine and found himself in a totally unfamiliar Hyrule; now, at the spot he began his quest to save this world, he would leave it to save another.

A heavy silence permeated the ruins of the Temple of Time. Reverent or mourning, Link could never tell, but he always paid the goddess statue her proper respect. Ravio, though, seemed less concerned with the hallowed ground he stood upon. He had already plunked his bag on the ground and gone digging through it. After a moment, he retrieved the purple magnifying glass and blade-less hilt, climbing to his feet holding the former out in front of him.

“For now, we’re calling this baby the Lens of Truth,” Ravio explained. “Princess Hilda helped me on this one by channeling her magic into it. It helps us find the rifts between worlds.”

“Rifts?” Zelda peered through the Lens. “What do you mean?”

“Well, remember when I had the flower petal? Imagine someone cut a slit in the middle. That opening is a doorway between both sides. These openings, or rifts, are what got me into Hyrule.”

He walked toward the goddess statue, poring over every square inch with a keen eye. Zelda trailed after him, eager to learn from him, and Link followed after her. “And how does this find them?” she asked. “Is it attuned to these rifts?”

“Exactly. As it turns out, the Lens could detect them, but pretty poorly. The princess enhanced its capabilities. A-ha!”

He pointed the Lens at a spot before them that hovered near Link’s eyeline. Through the Lens, Link saw a shimmering tear in the air through which poured inky black fog.

Ravio handed the Lens of Truth to Zelda. “If you wouldn’t mind holding that, Your Grace. I’m gonna need both hands for this.”

Zelda dutifully held the Lens as Ravio pulled out the dagger-less hilt. As Link drew closer to Zelda’s side, Ravio hit a button on the edge of the hilt and then pointed it at where the tear hung in the air. Zelda gasped. “How did you craft that blade?”

“Blade?” Link peered through the Lens of Truth and indeed saw a glimmering blade now protruding from the handle, clear as glass but sharp as the tip of a Sheikah spear. “What is that, Ravio?”

The traveler beamed. “A real brainwave, even I gotta admit. Watch your eyes. This part gets a little hard to watch.”

Ravio reared up with the dagger and struck the rift, dragging the knife downward as though slicing through curtains. To the naked eye, Ravio looked as though he were struggling to pull the knife down from the air, but through the Lens, Link watched as the rift grew longer and longer, with more inky mist spilling through and cracks spiderwebbing out. Soon, Ravio had carved a doorway in space, just enough for them to step through. Zelda’s hand lowered in astonishment, but when the Lens fell, the rift remained, now visible to the naked eye.

“Huh. The rift looked different from the other side.” Ravio got out of the way and gestured to his handiwork. “Anyway. Hylians first.”

Zelda and Link exchanged a glance. Link saw a familiar excitement in her eyes, a common fixture in the days before the Calamity—specifically, on her days off before the Calamity, when she would spend her few free hours assisting the scientists with their research. Even with worlds falling apart around them, even with no real idea of the world they were leaping into, she was thrilled to figure out what waited on the other side. She was excited to learn.

“Allow me first, Princess. I’m still your appointed protector.”

She nodded, visibly swallowing her enthusiasm. Link walked to the rift, his hand reaching up for the reassurance of the Master Sword’s handle. As he drew close, he noticed the strange coolness that billowed from the rift. Cold winds don’t really billow, do they? They slice and cut through the world, cracking skin and reddening noses. But this cold billowed, oozing like honey over Link.

He took a deep breath of the cold air and stepped into the darkness.


	4. Welcome to Lorule

Link was in nothingness, engulfed in the dark, chilling smoke. Colors filtered in around him every once in a while, but it was just him and the dark, falling—but falling forward. He was careening towards something, but his destination was as nebulous and unsure as this space he found himself in.

Before long, he felt a crack reverberate through his body as though it radiated from his own soul. With the crack came a flash of light, and suddenly there was more light up ahead, carved into the shape of a doorway.

Link reached for the doorway, using every ounce of strength he had, and heaved himself through it. He was shivering from the journey, but little warmth rushed up to greet him when he found himself in a place—an unfamiliar place, but a place with a floor and walls and a ceiling. He was on all fours on a stone floor with a red, threadbare rug. He lifted his head to find—Hyrule Castle’s library?

No, this wasn’t the library. The thick, red drapes had been drawn over the tall windows, though he could see the flashes of a thunderstorm outside. If they were in the castle library, the drapes would be the bright royal blue. And this room had a massive fireplace at the other end, quiet and totally undecorated, which the library he and Zelda spent hours in strikingly lacked. Maybe they ought to think about that for future renovations.

Link made his way toward the fireplace to warm his hands again, even though only embers remained of the once-roaring blaze. He looked back at the rift he had climbed out of; on this side, it spilled out blinding white light. 

The door beside the fireplace opened. Link spun on his heel and saw Princess Zelda herself—or she would be, if her hair was not a deep violet, and if she didn’t look so surprised to see him. She rushed towards him, leaving behind the guard wearing a peculiar yet familiar crest. The princess wore a gown that bore the same crest, but instead of the navy that the Hylian royal family favored, it was yet again purple, the same shade as an Armoranth back home.

Link instinctively reached for the Master Sword as she drew closer, his hand closing on the handle. She hesitated, eyeing his hand on the sword, and then composed herself.

“Forgive my enthusiasm. I heard someone come in, and I knew it could only be you. You're safe here.” Her red eyes flicked up to his hand again. “Is that—is that the Master Sword?”

“Yes.” 

“He was right. You _would_ help.” Her widened eyes filled with tears. “My name is Princess Hilda. We brought you here because I have failed my kingdom in every way.”

_If she’s anything like Zelda,_ Link thought ask he sank to one knee and bowed his head, _that probably isn’t true._ “My name is Link, knight and Hero of Hyrule. Her Royal Highness Princess Zelda and I have come to aid you in your battle against Ganon.”

She swiped at her eyes and gestured for him to stand. “Please, none of that is necessary. The honor and privilege are ours.” 

“Oh!” With the sound of a thump onto thin carpeting, they turned and found Zelda on the floor, though she seemed content to lay there in a heap and take in her strange new world. He went to her side and helped her to her feet, and she said, “Thank you, Link. Glad to see you made it in one piece. My, it’s quite a chilly crossing, isn’t it?”

He brought her to the fireplace, where Princess Hilda waited patiently, watching Zelda with an eagle eye. Zelda had already clocked her, though, and was taking in her near-perfect copy. “You must be Princess Hilda,” she said as they both bowed their heads in polite greeting. Both rulers of similar kingdoms, and both very intelligent; already, Link knew, Zelda was trying to guess her double’s approach to foreign relations, and he would be a fool not to assume Hilda was doing the same. “Link, I knew it must have been odd when Ravio appeared before us, but I really didn’t understand—”

“How strange the whole idea was?” Hilda finished with a chuckle. “I’m finding it quite a difficult enterprise to wrap my head around myself.”

Zelda smirked. “On that, we are agreed.”

“Oof!” Ravio had finally made it through the rift, which, when Link turned back to the sound, had shrunk, and the light pouring from it had dimmed. As Ravio picked himself up and dusted himself off, he made a beeline for Hilda and said, “Boy, it’s good to be home.”

“Welcome back, Ravio.” Hilda’s face split into an easy smile. “You were dearly missed.”

“Li’l ol’ me? I’m touched.” He gestured to the Hylians and said, “They’re gonna help us, Princess. They’ve very kindly lent us their services and their Sword.”

“I saw.” Hilda turned back to Link and Zelda and said, “Your arrival actually had perfect timing. Did Ravio tell you of our efforts to reach out to our neighbors?”

Zelda nodded. Hilda continued, “Their elders have finally arrived. If you’ll allow it, I can explain the difficulties of our situation to all of you at once.” 

Hilda marched them through the halls of Lorule Castle. No familiar vaulted ceilings, no winding, curving hallways; Lorule Castle was level and severe, with clean lines and a rigidly constructed floor plan, from what Link could tell. It was built more like the Akkala Citadel, where Hyrule’s soldiers earned their knighthood; this was a fortress, not a palace. And yet Link rather thought penetrating a castle designed like this to destroy Calamity Ganon, instead of the winding pathways of this place’s Hylian version, would have been preferable. Much more simple, much more direct—well, that explained Ravio’s approach to respectful address, didn’t it?

Princess Hilda led them up a set of stairs and then towards a doorway flanked by guards. One reached out and opened the door, and they filed into a room lined with portraits of monarchs past, women as serious as this room. A long table with a map and wooden chairs took up the room, but none of the waiting visitors gazing out the window sat in them, which gave Link and Zelda a perfect view of them, and the shock of their life.

Zelda was first to cry out. _“Urbosa?”_

The tall figure turned around, eyes blazing with a fury that belonged uniquely to Urbosa. Yes, it was Urbosa, from the proud nose to the dignified posture to the scimitar strapped to her back. And yet, it wasn’t Urbosa: she was wrapped in thick winter clothes, and the red hair she let dance on the desert winds was tied in a tight knot on her head.

Urbosa’s hands balled into fists. “How do you know that name?”

Zelda’s face fell. In her stunned silence, Link noticed the other two visitors listening to the confrontation. It was Revali and Daruk, former Rito and Goron Champions, standing here as clear as day. Though Revali’s plumage was bright gold and his eyes were that of a skittish child’s, and though Daruk didn’t even turn from the windowsill, only cocking his head to listen in, Link would know his compatriots anywhere.

“And what are yours?” asked Revali, staring the Hylians downs. “That’s my first of many questions for you two.”

“My apologies,” said Hilda, picking up the slack Zelda left in her surprise. “We left to greet our other allies at their arrival. It seems we’re still missing one, though her party was meant to arrive today.”

“Might have gotten caught in the storm,” said Ravio, eyeing Link curiously. “Your Grace, I think it’s time we got everyone on the same page.”

She nodded. “If you would please sit.”

Link and Zelda sat at one side of the table, but the other guests made sure to sit opposite them, to keep these unknown quantities in full view at all times. He saw the confusion—and in Revali’s case, pure fear—in their eyes as they took their inventory. Zelda couldn’t take her eyes off the faces of their former Champions, a hundred and two years of mourning flooding her. He knew that was the case, because the same thing was happening to him.

Their friends were alive. In this strange land of Lorule, their friends were still alive—and working to stop another Calamity! 

Hilda and Ravio stood at the head of the table. Ravio produced a leather-bound journal from the folds of his tunic and set it down beside a map with familiar shapes, but odd geography and totally foreign landmark placement. Hilda began, “We have brought you all here because our cherished land is facing, before long, the resurrection of Ganon.”

Shock rippled through the Champions. “Are you sure?” Revali asked. “How do you know?”

“A prophecy,” Ravio replied, paging through the notes. “The royal fortune-teller woke Hilda late at night, it rattled her so.”

He cleared his throat and began to read:

 

_“Ganon will be born from a crimson womb,_  
rising without fear of the sword that seals.  
Broken free by fear from his divine tomb,  
The devil with which a friend deals.” 

 

A solemn silence fell over the room. “As many of you know, blood moons became commonplace in the last six months,” Hilda said, “which is what we believe the prophecy is referring to with the phrase 'crimson womb.' And since then, we have been working tirelessly to combat Ganon’s rise. We began negotiations with your provinces; meanwhile, in the castle, we have tried method after method of recreating the Master Sword.”

“Recreating the Master Sword?” Daruk said with a derisive laugh. “It can’t be done.”

Hilda’s face fell. “You’re right, but we learned that after exhausting every possibility otherwise. We did not give up, though—and now, we do, in fact, have a Master Sword.”

The Champions balked. “How?” Urbosa demanded. “How does one recreate a divine weapon?”

“We did not create it.” Hilda gestured to Link. “By now, you must have noticed the similarities between these guests and ourselves. It is because they _are_ us, but the versions of us from another realm, another Lorule, entirely.”

“Why are they here?” Revali yelped. “Was our aid not good enough? Surely one sword of legend is not the key to defeating Ganon—and if they’re from another world, who knows how they could ruin ours?”

“Pardon me!” Link shot back, climbing to his feet. “We are here to aid your quest, not destroy it!”

“Link, enough!” Zelda also rose, her protective hand on his arm. Her face was flushed. “Please, Revali, it’s quite a lot to take in, but I swear we’re trustworthy—”

“Who?” Revali’s feathers fluffed up. “Who is this Revali?”

“Please, everyone!” Hilda barked. “Return to your seats. Perhaps we should introduce ourselves before we go any further.”

Zelda held her head high, all pinkness gone. “I am Princess Zelda of Hyrule. This is my appointed knight, Link. Together, we sealed Ganon away in our own world.”

The Champions shared a look, all wide eyes and carefully curated faces. They were impressed but trying not to be—Urbosa in particular was spectacularly failing. 

To cover up how stunned she was, Urbosa spoke first. “My name is Fulgura. I am the chief of the Gerudo people of the western tundra.”

The Rito went next, nervously smoothing down his feathers. “My name is Ardali. My father is the chief of Rito Village.”

All eyes turned to Daruk—or whoever this Goron turned out to be. His beard was combed smoothly, not a hair out of place, and he looked down his short, stubby nose as he said, “I’m Durus of the Gorons.”

Fulgura, Ardali, and Durus. What a world they had come to.

“I hope we can work together peacefully, for the sake of our homeland,” said Hilda, eyeing Daruk with a steely gaze— _Durus,_ Link remembered sourly.

Suddenly, a guard burst into the meeting room, bringing their talks to a halt. “Your Grace! The final ambassador has arrived.”

And just like that, the talks were forgotten. “Bring her in.”

The guard opened the door and allowed in the last representative. Her armor was encrusted with rubies, and her coloring was a cooler lavender, but Link could never mistake her heart-shaped face or her sweet smile or her quiet voice. “Apologies for the hour. We were caught in the storm.”

“Allow me to introduce you.” Hilda gestured to the newcomer. “This is Canta, princess of the Zora.”

It wasn’t Canta. It was Mipha, Link’s Mipha, who stood before him, alive and well in the land of Lorule.


	5. An Unclear Horizon

Zelda paid close attention to Hilda as she drew up her plans, because she knew Link was down for the count.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Canta, who had taken the seat beside him. She saw him struggling to keep his eyes at least toward Hilda, or even the other Champions—they’re not the Champions, she chided herself again. They’re ambassadors. They’re strangers, even if they don’t look it. 

The shock of seeing Urbosa’s Lorulean double had hit her like a ton of bricks, but she understood delegation and delicacy, and that tears would not be welcome at a war council. Urbosa had been a guiding light, the wind beneath this little bird’s wings, and it was so good to see her again, even in this form. 

Zelda had had a feeling that Mipha would appear before long, in one form or another. If they were fighting the Calamity, Hilda would seek out the same people Zelda had a hundred years ago, and that included the Zora princess Link had fallen in love with. So when she met Fulgura, she knew that Link’s fiancée was likely to arrive sooner or later.

Still, though, it wasn’t easy to watch. As Hilda spoke about Yiga attacks in northern Lorule and Ravio boasted about his world-hopping tools, Link’s eyes remained glued to Canta, who was politely paying attention to Hilda. Zelda was guilty, too; her gaze kept drifting back to Fulgura, so like Urbosa in physique and personality. But as painful as it was to say so, she reminded herself that Fulgura wasn’t the Gerudo chief Zelda had adored, the warrior who died to save Hyrule. 

One look at Link, and she knew that he wasn’t doing the same. She had had a century to grieve Mipha’s loss, and he had had two years, and he hadn’t even remembered her for a good chunk of that. He had gotten her back after losing her twice, and he would take his victories where he could get them.

“For those of us who are recent arrivals,” said Zelda, nudging Link sharply with her elbow, “who are the Yiga? We have an organization like them in Hyrule, but I am eager to learn their purpose here.”

“They are the sworn protectors of Ganon,” Hilda replied. “They’ve lived in the shadows as his attendants and defenders. There was a handful of defectors once called the Sheikah, who we did our best to shelter and protect, but they were killed for abandoning the cause.”

“ _All_ of them?”

“Yes.”

Zelda fumbled over her shock. The Sheikah population in Hyrule was sparse, but it was _there._ “Well, what do we know of the Yiga’s plans? How will they attempt to resurrect Ganon?”

“On that, we are unclear,” Hilda conceded, “but the Yiga clan’s mission statement has always been to resurrect Ganon, and that combined with the prophecy, the blood moon, and the recent spike in attacks, they are very likely suspects.”

“So what do you propose we do?” Durus asked with a snort. “Patrol Lorule until we get lucky with a generous, talkative Yiga?”

“Our first step,” said Hilda, “will be to raid their headquarters in Gerudo.”

“If Your Grace would wait a minute,” said Fulgura, scowling at her. “Launching an offensive attack may spur them to retaliate. The Yiga are guerrillas. They will not organize forces and set upon Lorule Castle; they will instead attack the Gerudo randomly and brutally. I cannot risk my people’s safety.”

“I am not asking you to, Lady Fulgura. My intention is that we assemble a large enough force that raiding their headquarters will be swift and clean.”

“An army of that size will be visible from miles away on the tundra,” Fulgura snapped.

“I don’t mean an army.” Hilda turned to Ardali. “My hope is that Rito warriors will be able to surround their quarters in less time, and then we can send in an infantry. The Rito will have the advantage of speed, as well as surprise: not many Rito fly through the tundra, do they?”

“With good reason!” Ardali shot back. “The heavy winds and thick snowfall are difficult to navigate. And when we put on any kind of covering, we’re weighed down and can’t stay in the air as long. You’re asking a lot from us, Princess Hilda.”

“That is where I hope our friends to the east will come in,” she replied smoothly. “Durus, your people mine gemstones loaded with magic. Canta, yours are practiced in manipulating that power. With your cooperation and Ravio’s help, we can create enough heat-retaining pendants—”

“To outfit an air force?” Durus balked. “That takes time to mine!”

“As does refining the magic within the stones,” Canta chimed in, a sympathetic lilt in her voice. “It is a lengthy process, and a difficult one, too.”

“See, I already thought about that,” said Ravio. “I got some trinkets in the works that can speed up the process. I still got some finagling ahead of me, but they’ll be done before long.”

“If I may speak,” Zelda interrupted. “Durus, the Gorons are in charge of mining these jewels?”

He nodded. “That’s how mining works, yes.”

_A smart aleck, huh?_ She ignored his remark and said, “Well, if the difficulty lay in finding a vein to tap, I may be able to help with that.”

She pulled out the Sheikah Slate and set it on the table. “This is an ancient relic from our own world called the Sheikah Slate. It’s able to find certain things, as long as we’re able to program it to look for the right thing. It works a lot like how a bloodhound finds a scent, actually. Once it knows what it’s looking for, it’s infallible.”

Durus peered at the Slate. “What things can it find?”

“Anything,” said Link, finally returning to the present. “Animals, plants, even treasure. I used it hundreds of times in my own travels.”

“You’re a traveler?” Canta inquired politely. She was leaning forward, the beginnings of a smile on her face.

“I’ve traveled a lot,” he replied, his chest puffing out. “I crisscrossed Hyrule to end our own Calamity. I’ve been to every corner.”

Canta’s eyes widened. “You mentioned this place called Hyrule, but I’ve never heard of a place like that. Where is it?”

“Lemme catch you up!” Ravio interrupted gleefully. Zelda couldn’t help but be thankful for Ravio’s tactlessness, or for his armor-plated enthusiasm as he spelled out the quickest, most succinct explanation to Canta. Zelda had a feeling that the only thing that worked faster than Ravio’s mouth was his mind. “So, our hope here is that we can all combine forces in an alliance to stop Ganon before he rises in the first place!”

“Why should we?” Durus asked.

Hilda’s eyes hardened. “Is the welfare of Lorule not sufficient motivation?”

“You are asking a lot from us, Princess,” said Ardali. “You are asking us to take you at your word—even you must admit that there’s not much real evidence here—and enlist our people and our resources for a threat we know very little about!”

Canta cleared her throat. “I think what they’re trying to say,” she began slowly and carefully, “is that we want to ensure that our people’s time, labor, and supplies go to good use. Ganon has historically been a threat to all of Lorule, with all her people contributing to the fight back. And if we’re involving them now, we want to protect them against the threats he might bring as best we can.”

Hilda fell silent, hands clasped before her and head tilted down in thought. Ravio was shifting his weight from foot to foot, though he couldn’t seem to think of something to say, either. Finally, Hilda sighed and she said, “I understand your concerns. Perhaps if we conclude for tonight, we can mull things over and come back again tomorrow.”

With no resistance, the others agreed, and the meeting was concluded, marking the fastest—and only—decision they had come to that night. Zelda climbed to her feet and looked up to find Ravio already hurrying towards her. “Follow me. I’ll take ya to your rooms.”

“Thank you very much. Link?” She turned to her companion, though she had lost him quickly to the Zora princess. He had already drawn closer to her, the pair of them deep in conversation.

“Fascinating,” said Canta, eyes wide. “When I arrived, I wondered why Princess Hilda had hidden the existence of a twin from us!”

Link laughed. “You should have seen when Ravio and I met the first time.”

Zelda cleared her throat. “Link, Ravio is taking us to our rooms.”

He looked up at her. “Right, right. Yeah. Princess Canta, you need a room, too, right?”

“Don’t worry!” said Ravio. “We got one for you, too. Right this way!”

The four of them left the boiling meeting room. Hilda had done her best, but tensions remained thick; Fulgura was glaring at her as she left, and Ardali was apparently doing his best to avoid Durus’ eye. 

They followed Ravio up more stairs until he stopped at a door. “This is you, Princess Zelda,” he said. “You’ll find a change of clothes waiting for ya for tomorrow. We’ll come getcha for breakfast.”

“Thank you, Ravio.” Zelda opened the door but hesitated, looking over her shoulder. “Goodnight, Link.”

But they had already abandoned her and headed down the hall. Link and Canta were once again in their own world.

 

&

 

“Ya haven’t even changed yet?”

Hilda shook her head, staring out the wide window of the royal suite. She had been watching the thunderstorm, her stomach churning as frightfully as the sky, and mulling over the evening’s proceedings. Things were prickly between all parties concerned, which, while she had expected it, was still disappointing. Perhaps when people had a night to digest it all, they could move forward in the morning, though Durus could stand to be a little more giving, couldn’t he…?

“Hey.” She felt a tender hand on her arm, and she turned and found raven-haired Ravio gazing down at her. He frowned and said, “Ya haven’t even taken off your crown. Let’s get that fixed.”

He carefully removed her golden diadem, setting it on a velvet pillow on her dressing table. “C’mon. Ya did all ya could tonight. We ain’t gonna do anything tomorrow if you ain’t well-rested.”

She scowled at him, though she moved to her wardrobe and began to undress. “Do you get a kick out of bossing around your future queen?” she said wryly, peeling off her gloves and shrugging out of her gown.

“There ain’t no one who can boss you into anything,” Ravio replied with a smirk. “Me least of all.”

“I see why you were appointed my royal adviser.” She dug around and found her winter nightgown—storms always brought a chill. When her head poked out of the collar, she explained, “You’re very wise.”

“Wiser than I look, I think,” he said with a smirk, “which I’m sure you were too kind to say, Princess.”

Only in his mouth did the word ‘princess’ not sound dirty. Now that he had cajoled her out of her royal garb, exhaustion pervaded her bones, and she couldn’t summon the will to half-heartedly comb her fingers through her violet hair. 

“Stay with me? I want to make sure you get your rest, too.”

He rolled his eyes, and kicked off his boots. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you’re after.”

She shot him a smirk as they climbed into bed together. “You think I’m in any mood for that sort of thing after tonight?”

She pillowed her head on his chest, her ear at his heart. His arm wrapped easily around her, his fingers stroking through her hair. He was chattering away about his shock at how their Hyrulean counterparts weren’t courting, at how that was such a foreign idea to him now—though with the way Link was looking at Canta earlier that evening, they might have more problems on their hands than two people afraid to make a move. Distraction bred irritation, and irritation was the vanguard of malice.

She interrupted him with the question that had been making her heart ache since they first heard the prophecy. “Do you think we’ll be able to do it?” she murmured. “Do you think we can stop Ganon’s return in time?”

He went silent, and then his other hand came to her chin, gently tilting her face up so their eyes met. “I think we got two brainy princesses, a hero with a Master Sword, and our greatest allies all in a room,” he said. “And I think once everyone gets a good night’s sleep, they’re gonna get a lot less…tetchy.”

“Tetchy? Is that what you call it?”

“It’s one word for it.”

“Also.” She leaned up so she was hovering over him, propped up on her elbow. “You forgot another brain integral to our effort. A brain that found a way to a parallel world.”

“Yeah, well.” He averted his eyes. “Had to figure out someway to be useful, since you’re keepin’ me around ‘cause I look pretty.”

“That’s not why you’re my adviser, but I won’t say it’s not a perk.” She leaned in and kissed him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Ravio.”

He shot her a wink. “Probably get better sleep. I’m pretty good at keepin’ you up at night.”

She snickered. “That’s one way to say it.”


	6. The Longshot

Lorule mornings were dewy and calm. Link woke before dawn, as usual, and pulled on his Champion’s Tunic again. The clothes Ravio had promised him were waiting in his wardrobe, but Link and this tunic had weathered disasters together, and it was as suitable a garment as any for his morning training regimen.

Link had noticed before that Lorule Castle was not the sprawling, luxurious animal that Hyrule Castle was, but he came to appreciate Lorule’s functional design again when he found his way to the ground floor to train before long. He found a courtyard still halfway draped in night, like a Hylian sunset.

He walked to the center of the courtyard, drew the Master Sword, and held it before him. A breath in, a breath out, and then he lifted the sword high—

“Pardon, am I interrupting your training?”

Link turned to the soft voice and found Canta standing there, wrapped in a bright red cloak. When was the last time he’d seen a Zora wear a cloak? “It’s all right,” he said. “Did you come out here to train, too?”

She smiled at him and walked closer. “How did you know?”

“Only a few things can pry someone out of bed this early.” He lowered the Master Sword, sticking the tip into the soft earth beneath his feet. “I figured training was the likeliest.”

“Hmm.” Canta went and sat on a stone bench, pulling the cloak tighter around herself. “My training isn't quite so physical. I meditate. It helps focus my magic.”

She patted the spot beside her, and he took his seat. “You’re a magic user?”

“A mage, yes. That’s what we call them here.” Her eyes twinkled. She had been deeply impressed the other night with his and Zelda’s tale of traveling between universes, though the thrill seems to have worn off. “I learned from my mother.”

“What kind of magic? Or is that an invasive question here?”

“Of course not,” she said with a laugh. She reached out and plucked a white rose from a nearby bush, holding it up for Link to see. Her fingers glowed electric yellow, and suddenly the rose was wilting, the petals drying up and falling to the ground like snow.

“You can destroy with a touch.” He felt as though the ground had shifted under his feet, or that he had slapped on a pair of Robbie’s spectacular goggles without calibrating them. It was painfully clear that he was in another world, because Canta’s magic struck an odd chord in him. _That’s not what it should be._

Canta nodded, eyes on the wilted petals on the ground. “It is very useful on the battlefield.” Her voice had gone low, almost to a whisper. “But not so easy on the soul.”

A gift like that could save lives, if applied correctly. If she could carve a path to a military commander, or slip into a private meeting, she could stop wars before they started. The Mipha he knew would throw herself into any cause with her whole heart, and it was odd not to hear Canta do the same. “Is that not what you want?”

“It must seem very ungrateful to you,” she said, “who trains hard every day. I do love using magic, Link. But I always admired the kind that wasn’t used as a weapon. The kind that grows flowers instead of killing them. But when your people are delicate and vulnerable to every threat, all your resources are devoted to defense and not creativity.”

“I understand.” Hyrule and Lorule may be as different as night and day, but the pressure to perform your duty seemed to stretch across realms. “Princess Zelda was the same way. Unlocking her sacred power took a heavy toll on her for years. And I understand, too—for many of those years, I barely uttered a word, since everyone else had something to say about the sword on my back. You’re in good company.”

She sighed with relief, a sunny smile stretching across her face. “I am very lucky to be. Thank you, Sir Link. Sympathy is hard fought for among my people.”

_Some things never change._ The Zora were proud, but they were not stubborn. At least not the ones from Hyrule. “Please, call me Link.”

“Very well, Link.”

She shivered and pulled her cloak more tightly around her. “This damned castle. Between the storm and the stone, I’m having trouble keeping warm. Lady Fulgura had the right idea.”

And suddenly, Link had a very helpful and very dangerous idea. “You know, in my world, our castle had hot springs beneath it. Would that help keep you warm?”

“Oh, immensely. Perhaps if there’s a quiet moment after breakfast, I’ll ask Hilda if I may soak in them.” She locked eyes with him, and her smile tightened, constrained by nerves. “Maybe you and I can soak in them together.”

His eyebrows lifted and he opened his mouth, but closed it again. Mipha had caught him off-guard, too, when she gifted him the Zora armor.

Canta, though, had already leaped to conclusions. “My apologies. That was very out of line, and we should be focusing on the threat of Ganon. I thought it might be conducive to build our alliances, but perhaps spending time together shouldn’t look like that, and—”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“What?”

Link’s heart fluttered in his chest. “I would like that.”

She tried to contain her smile again, but it burst through in full force. “Thank you, Link.”

 

&

 

“This way, Princess Zelda.”

Zelda followed the guard down the hall, smoothing down the front of the gown left in her quarters. It fit her very well, which meant this was part of Hilda’s own wardrobe she was loaning out to her. She was grateful to have such fine garments for her stay here and such a generous host, but violet had never been her color.

The guard brought her to a sunny veranda, where the others from last night’s war council were gathered. Hilda and Durus were deep in conversation but Fulgura, who had been gazing out the window, made a beeline for Zelda as soon as she entered the room.

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

“Good morning, Lady Fulgura.”

“I want to apologize.”

Zelda’s eyebrows lifted. “Whatever for?”

“Our hostility last night.” She glanced over her shoulder at Ardali, who had just entered and sat down. “Durus won’t do apologize, and I doubt Ardali will, either, and I think you and I both want this endeavor go to smoothly.”

Zelda schooled herself; it wouldn’t do to look so surprised. It was best never to let others know what you think of them. “Thank you, truly, but there’s nothing to apologize for. Tensions are always prickly at the start of endeavors like this, aren’t they?”

Now it was Fulgura’s turn to be surprised. “You’re awfully young to have experience in war councils.”

“I have been ruling my kingdom on my own for two years, and looked out for it even longer than that.” Frankly, after spending a century in Calamity Ganon’s grasp, a tense war council hardly raised her hackles. “People want what is best for their people.”

“I agree.” Fulgura’s eyes narrowed at her, as though weighing odds. “May I ask you about something you said last night?”

“Of course.”

“Where did you hear the name Urbosa?”

Zelda’s heart skipped a beat. This was hardly the time to trot out her grief, but her newly-cemented ally was asking for honesty, and she knew not to jeopardize the peace between them. “When Link and I fought the Calamity in our own world, we also recruited others to help our cause. Apparently Hilda and I look for the same things in our champions. We gathered the very same four people, a representative each from the Rito, Zora, Gorons, and Gerudo. Urbosa was the name of your—of you, from my world.”

Fulgura’s face softened. “It _was_ her name?”

Her shoulders sagged, and a little of her fighting spirit disappeared. Urbosa had always had a hardy spirit, but Zelda’s wasn’t so well-protected. “She gave her life fighting Ganon. All four of you did, but I had known Urbosa the longest.”

“I didn’t know.” She glanced at the others. “So this must be a difficult situation for you and your hero. I’m sorry.”

Zelda heaved a shaky sigh, and found another rush of understanding for Link. Was this what he felt every day? The grief had grown dull for her, but the sight of their Champions sharpened its edge at every glance. “Thank you. We are determined to save Lorule, Fulgura. I don’t think Urbosa would be very proud of me if I turned tail now.”

She chuckled. “I don’t think my Urbosa would be proud of me, either,” she admitted. Her face softened as she explained, “Urbosa was the name of my mother. She died in battle long ago, and I was startled to hear her name last night from this person I had never met.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Zelda offered a smile. “It seems like our Urbosas are kindred spirits.”

“I’m inclined to think they are.”

Hilda broke away from Durus and went to the head of the table. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Breakfast will be served momentarily. Please, I invite you to sit.”

Zelda and Fulgura moved to the table, the former looking around. Where was Link? He was an early riser, wasn’t he? Maybe his training ran long.

“I have one more question,” Zelda asked her newfound friend as they sat down. “Just about this world. No one seems to be very bothered with honorifics, do they?”

Fulgura frowned. “How do you mean?”

“Well, last night, people addressed Princess Hilda without the ‘princess.’ And you all dropped the ‘lords’ and ‘ladies’ pretty quickly.”

“Oh.” She frowned in puzzlement. “Are they very important in your world?”

“The Hylian court of my youth practically ran on pomp and circumstance.” Seeing it virtually absent from Lorule Castle had thrown Zelda for a loop. That was the environment she learned to rule in, the system upon which she sat at the top.

“Interesting.” Fulura shrugged. “I do not know your kingdom’s history, but Lorule’s is plagued with war and violence. And in such a world, one speaks frankly and bluntly, I suppose. If a threat is bearing down on us, we do not waste time with ‘Your Lordship’ or ‘Your Highness.’ The guards use them, but we are all allied here. We are all equals.”

“I see.” Perhaps Hyrule’s court could take a page from Lorule’s book. “Maybe the lack of pomp and circumstance leads to tighter friendships. If you’re not constantly reminding others of their status, you can become closer, hm?”

Just then, Link entered the veranda with Canta on his arm.

The uncomfortable feeling of drowning pressed in on Zelda as she pointedly fixed her gaze on the food being served before her. It was childish to entertain jealousy during such a crisis; yet wasn’t it childish for him to be cavorting with a stranger who had a certain uncanny resemblance?

“Apologies for our lateness,” said Canta as Link pulled out her chair for her. “We lost track of time in the garden.”

Hilda waved her off. “My chief adviser is running late, too. If you made it here before him, you are just fine. He’s likely working away in the laboratory, which means we may not see him all day.” She gestured to the table. “Please, eat up.”

A chuckle ran around the table. A simple breakfast of steak and eggs was served alongside water, which Zelda hadn’t expected; when her father had guests in his castle, every meal was a ceremony whose culinary feats exceeded the last. Hilda was trying to sway these people to her cause, and she served them _steak and eggs?_ Nevertheless, she remained silent and contemplated the culture shock as she ate. They were satisfying enough, and simple foods to talk around. Maybe that was the strategy here?

Though no one was all that forthcoming during the meal. They ate in silence, occasionally remarking on the nice weather after the storm. Zelda felt Durus and Ardali’s eyes on her still, assessing this unfamiliar quantity.

Ardali finished first. The servant had hardly cleared his plate away before he asked, “So, how did you defeat Ganon in your so-called Hyrule, Princess?”

Zelda’s head shot up, though she remembered to swallow her mouthful of eggs. “I beg your pardon?”

“You said last night you defeated your own Calamity Ganon. Since our Princess is assembling armies and trying to strike before he rises, I think it makes sense to hear what your approach was, since it was, after all, successful.”

A chill entered her heart. “I think Princess Zelda may prefer to wait until we are all finished to discuss our options,” said Hilda, forcing the words out through her teeth.

“With your permission, Princess, it will not take long.” She looked back at Ardali, reaching for the ferocity of spirit Urbosa had tried to teach her. “It was eventually successful, but barely. It cost us a great deal.”

“Yes, but how?” Ardali cocked his head most insufferably. “Is it just as unlikely as Princess Hilda’s plan to raid Yiga headquarters?”

“That was out of line, Ardali,” Canta piped up, “and you know it.”

“All I want are answers!”

“As a matter of fact,” said Zelda, “her plan has a greater chance of success than ours did.”

The room fell silent again. Link’s cold stare landed on Zelda, who continued, “We knew nothing of what Ganon could do. We prepared in all the wrong places and all the wrong ways. Because of that—and because I failed in my own crucial role—Hyrule fell to a century-long Calamity.”

All eyes were on her. Fulgura’s had pity in them, but Hilda’s contained a deep, primal dread. “Only thanks to the intelligence of our ancestors and my appointed knight’s resilience did we vanquish him once and for all.” Zelda looked down the breakfast table at him, where he was trying to ignore the conversation. “Without Link, Hyrule would still be burning.”

All eyes turned to Link. Canta gasped softly and asked, “Is it true?”

“No.” Link lifted his head and met Zelda’s eyes, though she couldn’t read the expression in them. “She will never say so herself, but she was the one who destroyed him. I weakened him with the help of the Master Sword, but she burnt him to ash with her magic.”

Fierce. The expression on his face was ferocity.

“We’ll call it a team effort, then.” Fulgura lifted her head, leveling Ardali with a stern glare. “Is that sufficient, Ardali? Have these young people earned their place at this table?”

Ardali looked rather sheepish for a Rito. “I—I’d say so.”

“I gathered you all here because you are excellent warriors I need by my side,” Hilda said severely. “To question their capabilities is to question my judgment, which we do not have time for.”

This would certainly not be the end of the questioning, Zelda knew. She and Link may be in the clear, but she knew Ardali’s type and knew that Hilda’s blanket ban on questions would only sow more discontent than productivity. Hilda needed a show of trust to truly convince the others.

Zelda pushed back her chair and stood. She heard the scraping of another chair as Link followed suit. Always her shadow, even now. “Princess Hilda,” she said, head held high, “I am officially offering you my help and alliance in stopping Ganon.”

“And I,” said Link, shoulders squared. “My Master Sword is at your disposal.”

Canta shot to her feet, too. “I’m sure we can find some way to work with our mages. Zora’s Domain will help in any way we can!”

Fulgura hid a proud smile as she, too climbed to her feet. “You and your soldiers are welcome in Gerudo. We will be proud to join with such a noble cause.”

All eyes turned to Ardali and Durus. Durus remained steadfastly stoic, matching their eager looks with a firm one of his own. Ardali was wavering, though, and said, “I must consult with my father on the matter, but he will almost certainly rise to defend Lorule.”

Hilda swept them with a watery gaze, a small smile of relief on her face. “Thank you, truly,” she said, sighing as though she’d held her breath for several minutes. “Your help will be instrumental in eradicating Ganon. This cannot be done alone.”

She wiped her eyes again, just as a familiar figure entered the veranda. “Apologies for my lateness, I got all wrapped up in working out one final kink—hey, what’s everyone standing around for?”

Another laugh ran around the table, easier than before, and they took their seats once again. Ravio sat at the other head of the table, and breakfast resumed in peace. The day seemed sunnier for it.

Zelda knew, however, that winning over Durus would be an uphill battle. He wolfed down the rest of his breakfast and excused himself quickly, leaving the others to guess what to do next and Zelda to contemplate how to convince him. It was his people’s mine they would take advantage of, which meant they were sacrificing their livelihood to aid the fight, not to mention the sheer weight of the demand. It would take months to mine enough magical stones to outfit a force of Rito, though with the help of the Slate…

Later that day, Ravio had taken Zelda, Ardali, and Canta to the royal laboratory, to show off the promised technology that would speed the magic-refining process and protect the Rito warriors. This, too, was very similar to the Ancient Sheikah Lab: gadgets and gizmos all over the place, bookshelves stuffed full with research journals, and hardly any room to stand. Zelda felt right at home. 

“Ravio, this place is extraordinary,” said Zelda, ducking under the long, telescoping arm of a many-lensed contraption. She would grill him all about his lab later; they had work to do, and an alliance to forge. 

“Thanks, Princess,” he said cheerfully, leading them through the cramped tables to the only one whose surface wasn’t totally covered. Upon it rested a strange accessory. Leather straps outlined the skeleton of a glove, with a pearl woven into the contraption. “I’m calling this bad boy a Wisdom Glove.”

“That’s a glove?” Ardali snorted.

“Yep! Princess Canta, your hand, if you wouldn’t mind.” She extended her hand, and Ravio fit the Wisdom Glove snugly onto it. The pearl rested in the center of her palm. “We harness the energy of Moon Pearls to magnify the wearer’s magic power. I figured you would want to test it.”

Canta flexed and clenched her hand, testing out the fit. “Gladly. But let’s go outside to find something to test it on.”

She and Ravio departed. Ardali made to follow suit, but Zelda asked, “Ardali, may I speak to you for a minute?”

He stared down his beak at her, but Zelda held fast. “I understand you still have some reservations about your part in Hilda’s plan.”

“Well, I’m surprised you don’t.” His beady eyes narrowed. “I understand your ignorance, though. You and your knight haven’t been here for very long. You don’t know our history.”

She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

He glanced over his shoulder and then leaned in a little closer. “The royal family, historically, have had a tendency to be all-or-nothing,” he explained. “Which has come back to bite them plenty of times. I don’t want to see something this important blow up in my face.”

Yes, the royal family of Hyrule had that tendency, too. “It may be small comfort coming from me, but if Hilda and I are anything alike—and so far, I’ve had that impression—I think she’s asking a lot because she wants to be ready if or when Ganon arises, and we don’t know when that is. She’s asking a lot because there’s little time to do it, and she wants to protect her people. If there has ever been a situation to overreact to and overprepare for, this is it.”

Ardali stared at her again, picking apart her every word, surely. But she knew a begrudging agreement when she heard one, and Ardali’s came in the phrase, “May I see that Slate you showed us last night? Durus has reservations about it. If we’re to defeat Ganon before he rises, Durus is going to take some needling, and I think I can put in a good word with him.”

Zelda pulled out the Sheikah Slate and showed him the screen, concealing her proud smile all the while.


	7. Getting Familiar

“Durus is proving a tough nut to crack, isn’t he?”

Hilda gave Link a sympathetic smile as she walked toward him with a helmeted guard in tow, a rolled-up map in her arms. “Princess Zelda has made astonishing headway with the others, but I fear there are few forces in Lorule that will get him to cooperate.”

Link shrugged. “Would have thought Ganon would loosen him up.”

The guard set the map on the reading table and rolled it open. Link grabbed books from the library’s shelves and set them on top of the corners, pinning the map in place. “Thank you,” Hilda said idly. “Wait outside. We may need you yet.”

The guard nodded. “Very well, Your Grace,” she said, and closed the door behind her, cloaking Link and Hilda in quiet.

Hilda sidled up to Link, who was gazing at the map of Lorule. “Wow—Hyrule and Lorule aren’t that different after all.”

The regions seemed to have wildly different climates, but the provinces fell along similar territory lines. There was Fulgura’s tundra that spanned the entirety of Lorule’s west; Death Mountain in the northeast, which was now only a rocky wasteland since the volcano had cooled centuries ago, as Hilda had explained; and Zora settlements all along the eastern coast. Hilda was consulting Ravio’s journal and sticking pins into a region northeast of the center of the map to mark the places the Yiga had been sighted. Link asked, “Where’s Rito Village?”

“There’s no Rito Village—no one place the Rito settle. They’re very nomadic, though last I heard, they were living somewhere around…” Hilda peered at the map and pointed to a southern mountain range. “Here. And Lorule Castle is right here.”

She had identified a spot south and a little west to where he was expecting, right on the banks of a river labeled River of Life. The geography was startlingly familiar, Link realized. He would recognize it after a hundred-year sleep. 

“Lorule Castle is where our Great Plateau is, and our Great Plateau is abandoned.” He turned back to the map and looked again at the spot where Hyrule Castle should be. Instead, the map showed a circular land mass at a higher-than-normal altitude. “That’s where our castle is.”

“Interesting. The legend goes that that spot was the birthplace of the kingdom of Lorule. It’s called the Deku Stump.”

He looked up at her. “You have a Deku Tree?”

“We did once, but not in living memory. We know almost nothing of its properties.” He saw a gleam in her eyes that was very similar to the gleam in Zelda’s when she stumbled upon a discovery in her research. “It is still alive in Hyrule?”

“He’s the guardian of the Master Sword. In fact, we think there may have been several Deku Trees.” He glanced around. “Ravio brought a map of Hyrule. I could show you—”

But Hilda had already taken off through the library to the books Ravio had brought with him from Hyrule, rooting through them until she found the map Ravio had requested. “Yes, here!”

When they lay the maps side-by-side, it was easy to see where their worlds overlapped. Hilda pored over every inch, making little notations in Ravio’s journal. 

“Fascinating,” she murmured, staring at the Great Plateau. “You say it’s abandoned?”

“Yes. But look here.” Hyrule’s map was more detailed, which Link had insisted upon doing himself after traveling to its furthest reaches to free the Divine Beasts. He pointed to the Great Hyrule Forest and said, “This is where our Deku Tree stands, and it’s where our Master Sword rested until I drew it. Do you have anything resembling a Great Forest?”

“If you’re looking for where our Master Sword used to be...” She pointed to a hilly ridge that bordered Fulgura’s tundra. “There. It was hidden in a series of underground caves. We have searched them time and time again, but no sign of the ancient blade. Please, though, tell me more about this proliferation of trees.”

He pointed to the Crenel Hills, where the husks of massive trees had now become the homes of Wizzrobes. “We used to have massive trees there, as well as here, in this lake. It’s called the Ancient Tree Stump, and it isn’t really much of anything anymore. Sometimes Moblins will nest there.”

She fell silent, glancing over the map of Lorule again. Link glanced back at the handful of pins stuck into it. They bordered an image on the map was that of a building, maybe, crumbling with time and weather. “What’s there?”

“Old ruins,” said Hilda. “A temple to a goddess. Her name is lost to our histories, though. The deity for that temple’s been forgotten.”

She leaned forward, her ears twitching in concentration. “Fascinating. Maybe at another time, we could compare histories. See how our kingdoms’ geographies came to be. This is really, truly fascinating. And who knows? Maybe there are other worlds, too, completely different than both of ours still. Maybe we are not polar opposites—how different can our worlds get? Such an interesting question.”

Link had questions of his own. He wondered about the Lorulean search for another Master Sword, and how it became not just a creative line of thinking, but a priority that was so important that Hilda put resources toward bringing it to life. If Link were facing Ganon’s resurrection without the Master Sword, he would seek out building an army and monitoring Zelda’s sealing power. He wouldn’t engage in theoretical speculation and search for a parallel world that might exist.

“Your Grace,” he said slowly, “can I ask you a personal question?”

Hilda looked up from the map, brow furrowed. “What is it?”

“You said you had no Master Sword, but what really did the job for Ganon in our world was Princess Zelda’s sealing power. Is there anyone in this world who possesses it?”

Her face fell. “No.”

“How?” He scrambled to recover. “My apologies, Your Grace. I want to understand our full arsenal, is all.”

She bit her lip and turned back to the map. “When Ganon fell last, he took the hero with him, and the Master Sword, too. We couldn’t find any trace of the weapon: it wasn’t around the hero’s body, and it hadn’t found its way back to its pedestal. In the months after, the monarch at the time revealed that she was unable to access the sealing power ever since the Master Sword disappeared.”

“That’s what happened in our world, too,” Link explained. Zelda had only been too happy to relinquish the heavenly light. “Zelda’s power faded after Ganon was sealed away. The way it works is that it’s only present when Ganon is a threat—when we need this power.”

She sighed wistfully. “That’s not how it works here. Our monarchs always had the power at their fingertips, Ganon or no Ganon. We cannot prove it, of course, but our theory is that our sealing power is inextricably tied to our Master Sword. There cannot be one without the other.”

 

&

 

Meanwhile, Zelda and Ravio were half-buried in notes in Ravio’s laboratory. Ravio was hunched over his workbench studying the Sheikah Slate while Zelda, perched on the edge of one of his tables, had occupied herself with a piece of armor. It was a shield, not unlike Link’s own Hylian Shield, but the front was a perfectly glossed mirror, not a scratch in place. “What is this, Ravio? Has it ever been tested?”

“Oh, yeah, Princess,” he said, shooting her a smirk over his shoulder. “It holds up pretty well when a Moblin’s bearing down on ya.”

Her eyes widened. “This has seen battle?”

He grinned at her. “Yep. Dozens by now, I’d say.”

“No!” She looked again at the perfect sheen. It looked like it had hardly left the lab. “How? What is this made of?”

“It’s made of Princess Hilda.” He turned in his chair, his chest puffing out. “She spent a lotta time enchanting it so it never bore a scratch. If it had even a tiny nick, it would be useless.”

“Why?”

“It uses the mirror’s gloss to absorb any magic spell thrown at it,” he explained. “Hilda thought of it herself and called it the Mirror Shield. We had trouble from some Icy Lizalfos not too long ago, and she thought throwin’ their magic back at them might save some lives.”

“Because no one’s prepared to dodge their own fire!” Princess Hilda was a brilliant strategist, no question. It was a brilliance that sounded familiar, like from Zelda’s father’s stories, or those of his generals. It was a brilliance that came from on-the-ground experience. “Did Hilda fight?”

“Oh, yeah! Hilda carried that shield herself. She was a vision when she wore it, with her rapier glimmering at her side.” Ravio gazed at the shield. “I designed that shield myself.”

Ravio grasped the edges of the shield and turned it over. On the handle of the shield, on the right of the wrist straps, was a button. “Pressing the button releases the magic stored within it. At first I thought a switch would be easier, but Hilda said a button had less chance of being activated on accident. I said to her, y’know, that we could probably make enough of these for an army! We could get our hands on the materials easy enough, and we could definitely use ‘em in the future, ‘cause there’s always gonna be Lizalfos.”

“Incredible!” Zelda’s ears twitched in excitement. If her own scientists could crack the secret to the Mirror Shield, they could improve Hyrule’s defenses by leagues. “But if you have this, why do we need the help of the Rito? Surely this shield can defend against anything your Yiga can throw at us.”

The light in his eyes dimmed. “Hilda ordered me not to make any more.”

Her brow furrowed. Hilda hardly struck her as a selfish ruler, the kind who reserved the best equipment for herself. “Why? Knowing you, Ravio, it works like a charm.”

“It wasn’t easy to make it work like that.” He sighed, combing a hand through his hair. “And Hilda hadn’t asked me to create something like this in the first place. But she wouldn’t be swayed from fighting the Lizalfo army, and she hadn’t faced an army of mages that size before, so I crafted something that would protect her.”

He took the shield from Zelda and turned it over so he could gaze at the mirrored surface once again, a crease forming in his forehead. “I’m not that good with magic, Princess. I can build and brandish, but I don’t have much power on my own. It took me ages to make it that good. Hilda says I practically disappeared into my lab. And when I presented it to her, she thanked me, but when she saw how exhausted I was by the effort all for only one shield—a really good shield, but still just one—she asked me not to make a second, in case it killed me.”

Zelda, who had a terrible habit of kicking her feet when they didn’t reach the floor, went still. She thought she had sensed something between Lorule’s monarch and her adviser, but Zelda had quashed the impulse to ask them about it. “Why not just hire more researchers to help?”

“She considered it, but the kingdom had more pressing demands.” Ravio smirked at her ears, which had begun to twitch again. “You’re wondering about Hilda and I. Only natural, I guess.”

She blushed. “I wasn’t going to ask, especially when we have other things to focus on.”

“Hilda said somethin’ like that.” He set the shield aside on his work table. “She didn’t want to put you and Link in a weird spot if we were overly affectionate with each other.” He met Zelda’s eyes again, narrowing in curiosity.

“I thought she was crazy. I mean, she and I were a done deal as soon as I clapped eyes on her. I didn’t think it would be any different, even in a parallel world. I mean, maybe Link and I are different, but we can’t be that different.”

Zelda could feel her face going pink. Maybe once she had thought something could work out between them, and maybe she thought he might have been interested after they put the Calamity to rest, but…

“I’m afraid your assumptions were incorrect.” She looked back at the Slate on his workbench. “Please, we should get back to work with the Slate. It won’t key a Lorulean dictionary into itself, after all.”

“Sure thing.” Ravio turned back quietly, and Zelda tried not to think about how Ravio would bend the heavens to keep Hilda safe, and how Link had done exactly that to rescue her from Ganon.

He still looked out for her, and yet…

 

&

 

“You know, when I was younger, I used to play the harp.”

“Really? I always loved lyre music.”

Canta giggled. “Those aren’t the same thing, Link!”

“Essentially, though, right?” Link grinned at her as they walked through the halls of the castle. “A harp is just a lyre that can stand up, isn’t it?”

“It’s totally different!”

They arrived in the council room, a regular evening errand by now. Hilda wanted constant progress reports from everyone, though Link didn’t feel particularly useful when they convened. He was here as a safeguard, not a researcher. So he familiarized himself with the terrain and customs of Lorule while Zelda holed up in the laboratory with Ravio and did the political gymnastics of winning their allies over. How she did it, he would never know.

He and Canta were the last two to arrive. Hilda didn’t show any irritation, but Zelda, sitting beside Ravio, shot him a look as he took his seat. “The training yard is a bit of a walk,” said Canta apologetically, “and you sent a new guard to fetch us. She got lost on her way.”

Hilda nodded curtly. “Well, since you were last to arrive, why don’t you report first?”

Canta took a deep breath. “I sent word to Zora’s Domain about our predicament. I’m awaiting confirmation back, but I am certain my father will be able to gather plenty of magic users to craft the magical rubies.”

“Good to hear. Ardali?”

“Same old, same old,” he answered, leaning his cheek on his clenched wing. “The search is underway for rounding up our archers. Our first handful should be making their way here any day now.”

“My warriors are also preparing in Gerudo.” Fulgura had taken to letting her hair down in this warmer climate, and she looked like Urbosa more and more every day. 

“They’re assembling all our intelligence on the Yiga, in case something of use comes up.”

Hilda beamed. “Excellent. Thank you. Ravio, I trust you have made headway with Princess Zelda’s Slate?”

“Sure thing!” he replied as Zelda pulled it out. “We found a way to key a few entries into the Slate’s encyclopedia. Real wonder, this thing is. And hey, maybe when this is all over, we can look and see if there’s any technology like this in Lorule!”

“Stay on the subject,” Hilda scolded, though Link saw her smile. “Will the Slate be able to aid Durus in locating rubies?”

Zelda nodded. “Our tests are conclusively positive. We’re ready to put the Slate to use.”

Durus straightened up in his seat. “Princess Zelda, Link, and I plan to leave for Goron City tomorrow.”

“What?” Link’s exclamation startled even himself, but he was so stunned by the plan that he paid no mind to all the eyes on him. “We’re going tomorrow?”

Zelda paid him no mind. “Apologies, Princess Hilda,” she said. Link heard a grain of Hilda’s severity in Zelda’s voice. “I have not had time to give Link any notice of my plans.”

She looked at him as though she were trying very hard to treat him like a stranger. “We will accompany Durus to Goron City with the Slate. He and I have already spoken about it, and he agrees that it is safest if we remain in charge of the Slate, as it is an artifact of our kingdom.”

“We don’t know when or where Ganon will arise, or if the Yiga will attack here,” Link retorted. “Shouldn’t the Master Sword remain in Lorule Castle, since that is where all of our preparations risk annihilation if left undefended?”

“I believe that between the warriors currently and in the near future gathered here,” said Zelda, “and Ravio’s inventions, Lorule Castle will be well-defended.”

“Wait, Princess Zelda.” Hilda’s eyes were narrowed. “We asked Link to come here because he wields the Master Sword. I am not sure if I’m willing to risk attack as your hero said.”

“Hilda, as custodian of the Sheikah Slate, I decide who handles it, and for an extended stay in Goron City, I believe it is proper if it stays with the pair of us.” She climbed to her feet and added, “I have no more to report. Goodnight.”

Hilda stared at her, stunned as Zelda pushed back her chair and climbed to her feet, rounding the table and heading for the door. Link followed, hardly heeding Ravio’s and Canta’s shouts as he shut the door behind him and raced to catch up with Zelda in the hall.

“Zelda, this is madness!” he hissed as they marched away. Zelda was marching as fast as she could, but he was hardened by years of training and travel, and easily kept up with her. “Durus is an ally to our cause. If you’re worried about safety, he’ll protect you! Do you not trust my training?”

“Do you not trust my judgment?” She was working hard not to sound out of breath. “We don’t know what this world is like outside of Lorule Castle, and we know that Durus is not especially enthused to be helping!”

“Then we’ll send along other knights!”

“They’ll take too long. I trust _you._ ”

“So does Hilda, which is why she wants me to stay!”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s the only reason!”

That stopped him short. Zelda froze, too, face reddening. He hadn’t trained her well enough, it seemed—this was her opportunity to flee, and she wasn’t taking it. “Princess, what are you talking about?”

Her brow furrowed, and her eyes had a peculiar shine to them. “I am working hard not to let myself get too fond of our allies. They look like our old friends, but they’re not really them.”

“So, what, you don’t trust them? You think they’ll raise Ganon?”

“Of course not,” she retorted. “But I don’t think you’re doing the same work.”

Link’s heart skipped a beat. “What are you saying?”

Zelda gave him a look that chilled the hall to the temperature of Mount Lanayru, “I’m saying that ever since we’ve been here, I’ve lost my appointed knight to Princess Canta.”

Princess Canta. Yes, they got along, but wasn’t that to be expected? And wasn’t it what they all thought was in Lorule’s best interest? They were getting along and strengthening their alliances! They were creating a closer bond, which they should have as Champions!

“I am your knight, Zelda. I have been for one hundred and three years. My apologies for abandoning you.”

“It’s not about me!” she shot back. “It’s about how you’re distracting yourself from your mission and doing Canta a disservice!”

He balked. “How am I doing her a disservice?”

“Did you tell her about your previous engagement?”

Silence strangled Link. No, he hadn’t spoke of his engagement to Mipha for ages. Why is Canta any different? Zelda scowled at him. “Face it, Link. It is not honest for you not to tell her what is going on.”

“There is nothing going on.” His hands balled into fists, and he found himself taking a tone with Zelda he never had before. “It is childish for you to monitor my personal relationships like this. I might even call it jealous, if I didn’t know better!”

“Maybe if you did know better, you wouldn’t mention such a ridiculous possibility!” Her face was the color of the very rubies they were attempting to uncover, and she looked ready to burst, but she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and fixed him with a look of such frustration that he found himself unnerved to be on the other end of it.

“You’re right. You should stay behind to defend Lorule Castle. Durus and I will depart tomorrow morning. I’m sure I will survive under his protection. Be wary, Link—you’re protecting the mission, but you’re hurting others as you do it.”

“Zelda—”

“Goodnight.” She turned on her heel and marched down the hall, head held high.


	8. The Spoils

Dawn seemed to come quicker in Lorule, Link was learning, though it didn’t feel any warmer.

Cold light filtered through the cracks in the royal stable. The horses hadn’t quite woken up yet, content to remain wrapped in the chilly quiet. Zelda was adjusting the bow on her back and the quiver on her hip, finding comfortable places for them to rest while riding on horseback. Link was crouched beside a brown mare, fastening the saddle buckle under the horse’s belly. When it was secure, he straightened up and checked her saddle bags. Food, elixirs to guard against the elements, a telescope, and a paper map.

“Ready, Agatha?” crooned Zelda, rubbing the horse’s nose. “You seem like a very good girl. I bet we’ll get along just fine.”

She reached up for the knob on the saddle. Link asked, “Need a leg up?”

Her voice was flat. “I can manage.”

Durus was waiting just outside the stables, a Goron club propped on his shoulder. Zelda swung herself into the saddle and sat astride Agatha, adjusting her bow from where it shifted.

Link tried again. “Do you have a cloak?”

“Hilda loaned me one.”

“And your canteen is full?”

“Of course.”

Zelda took the reins and made to snap them. Now or never.

“Wait, Princess.” He took the Hylian Shield from his back and held it up to her. “If you would allow it, I think taking this along will be useful.”

She met his eyes. “Archers don’t use shields, Link.”

He knew Zelda. For all her prowess with a bow, she still focused too much on her target and not enough on her surroundings. And without him watching her back, this was a way he could keep her safe. But he knew her well enough to know she would never accept that reasoning, especially after what happened last night, so all he said was, “There are plenty here, but who knows when any flimsy wooden shield will break on the road?”

Zelda stared at the shield and swallowed hard. Then she reached down, plucked the Hylian Shield from his grasp, and slung it across her back. “Thank you, Link,” she said, not looking at him. “Be careful. If all goes well, we’ll be back before long.”

He nodded. “Be safe.”

Zelda dug her heels into Agatha’s side. The horse walked to Durus, and then together they set off for Goron City.

 

&

_Day 2_

_The trip to Goron City was a cakewalk compared to what was waiting for us._

_Hyrule’s Goron City is sweltering, dangerous, and a grind to climb to, but at least the residents were cheerful. Lorule’s Gorons are such a morose bunch. Daruk was always such a joyful fellow, and so were his citizens. Without the lava flowing through it, Goron City is darker than I had expected, but darker still for its residents’ mood._

_Durus hadn’t thought to give the Gorons any heads-up about Princess Hilda’s plan. He gathered them all into a town-wide council with me there and announced that all mining of other gems was to cease. All efforts would go toward finding ruby veins. There was an uproar, of course—gemstones here, like in Hyrule, are the Gorons’ only export. But when he revealed the stipend the royal family would furnish them, protests ceased pretty quickly._

_They didn’t take to the idea of the Slate as swiftly, but later that night, Durus assured me that once they saw it in action, we would hear nothing but support. I didn’t expect Durus to be so warm with me, to be honest—he was so surly in the castle, but he’s opening up among his people._

_Day 5_

_We’ve been hiking every day up and down Death Mountain with the Slate, but so far, we’ve turned up nothing. Durus is losing patience. With me? The Slate? With Ravio and Princess Hilda, or is he impatient all of it together? Difficult to say._

_Ravio and I ran every test we possibly could in his laboratory, but there’s a difference between controlled climates and field testing. If we had more time, maybe we could have been more thorough._

_Durus insists on heading further up the mountain. Maybe Link should have come—he’s a better climber than me._

_Day 6_

_No ruby veins yet, but we found a grain of success! A few stray gemstones on the way to Death Mountain’s peak, but the Sheikah Slate picked them up as soon as we crossed the Bridge of Eldin. Good news—the Slate functions precisely as intended!_

_Bad news—the fact that we had to go all the way to Death Mountain means the ruby veins are few and far between. We have a lot more climbing ahead of us._

_Day 10_

_More climbing, with a handful of stones, but not enough to outfit an army. We must keep going._

_Hope is starting to wane again. It’s nearing two weeks we’ve been away from Lorule Castle, with very little to show for it. We’re making camp on a shelf on the Mountain. Our plan is to continue our search tomorrow morning._

_Day 11_

_I can’t believe it. I have to write down everything that happened._

_It was like the Yiga attack at Kara Kara Bazaar all those years ago, but so much more frightening. We watched the Blood Moon rise for the first time in Lorule, and suddenly all manner of creatures were appearing out of thin air before us! They were surrounding our little campsite, and I was scrambling for my bow, but suddenly Durus comes roaring out of nowhere, swinging his club and knocking a Fire Lizalfos right off the edge!_

_Suddenly, a Fire ChuChu was advancing on us, ready to blow. Durus ordered me to get back, which I did, as the creature crept closer and closer. It was preparing to leap at Durus, but I grabbed the Hylian Shield and parried it away, just as Link taught me, and it, too, disappeared below the edge of our outcropping._

_Durus was stunned, but I kept moving. I dove back into our tent, dug my bow out, and shot down the Fire Keese fluttering toward us. That proved enough to shake him out of his disbelief, and he lifted his club again and batted away another Lizalfo. Together we fended off the attack until dawn, when the creatures stopped coming and we were finally safe._

_Durus and I both agreed that we would take the day to rest. Ten days of travel plus a night-long battle do not good explorers make. He promptly fell back asleep, and I am only taking the time to record the fantastic events. I already feel the strong call of slumber. I’ve written down enough—I’ll remember this night forever._

_Day 13_

_We did it! We finally made it to the peak of Death Mountain. The Sheikah Slate was going mad the entire time, and for good reason! In the cooled magma of the volcano, we found a whole trove of rubies!_

_Apparently the rubies are a new fixture; when the volcano first cooled, nothing was found but rock and ash. Perhaps decades of odd winds, not to mention exploratory creatures disturbing the dust, had made the rubies more accessible. But we have enough to outfit all of Lorule with heat-retaining jewelry!_

_Durus is rushing down to Goron City to recruit more helpers and send word to Hilda. Looking into the belly of Death Mountain and seeing the gleaming red gives me reassurance that all will be well. Of course, I thought the same thing with the Guardians._

_But when I mentioned to him that it would do us well to remain cautious, he simply said, “There are enough riches here to feed my people and save the kingdom. Today was a victory, Princess. Let’s celebrate.” And I’m inclined to agree._

_Day 15_

_Durus and I have mined enough rubies to send a first batch to Lorule Castle, enough for Princess Canta’s mages to have plenty of work to do. We will send messengers with the rubies, as Durus wishes to remain here to supervise the operation. I must remain, in case we need the Slate again._

_Durus seemed surprised that I was willing to stay in this environment. When I told him that Hyrule’s Death Mountain was still active, and that I had indeed stayed there for quite some time, he seemed surprised._

_“You can fight and you can stay in the heart of an active volcano?” he said, laughing. “What else have you been hiding from us?”_

_How about that? I’m a trusted traveler. I’m a fighter who can hold her own during a Blood Moon. And I think I’m finally Durus’ friend._

 

&

 

Lorule Castle had been lonely since Zelda left.

Fulgura and Ardali had each departed to round up and prime their forces. Canta remained and was working with Ravio to set up appropriate facilities for the magic-wielding Zoras who had begun to arrive. His contraption called the Wisdom Glove had been perfected, and his technicians were working on crafting enough for a crew of mages.

And yet…

And yet, the thought of his and Zelda’s fight hadn’t left the pit of his stomach. Perhaps they had gotten too close, despite his efforts. He should be her protector first, not her friend. It was so difficult not to be her friend, though, after all they’d been through. Talking back to her didn’t feel out of line—or as out of line it would have been in the court of King Rhoam.

Zelda was never an authoritarian (except that one day at the Ancient Columns). He knew it wasn’t the irreverent disrespect to the crown that irked her. But to take such a personal interest in his own friendships, and to rebuke him for reaching out to the last scrap of Mipha there was left?

Maybe she was trying to be his friend in return. Maybe she was trying to protect him, too.

No, she was trying to protect Canta. She said as much. But what was he doing to her? What was the harm in enjoying each other’s company?

“Link?”

He shook himself out of his daze and glanced at the very object of his thoughts, who was walking beside him through Lorule Castle. “Apologies, Canta. I got used to spending time in my own head.”

She chuckled, and if he didn’t know better, he’d say it was higher-pitched than usual, like she was nervous. “I’ve noticed. Did you hear what I was saying?”

“I’m sorry,” he said with a wince. “I think the pressure is starting to get to me.”

“Well, that’s what I was talking about, actually.” She fiddled with one of her bejeweled bracelets. “You know, those hot springs you mentioned weeks ago. Soon enough, they’ll be loaded with Zoras trying to acclimate to the stone dwellings.”

“Yeah.”

“Which is why…well, if the offer’s still open, I think we ought to take advantage of it while we can have them all to ourselves.”

Her hand caressed his arm and she gazed into his eyes. They were wide and hopeful, but he saw years of potential in them in them, years he would never get to have. They were in Lorule for a short time, so why not tap into that potential while he could?

“Let’s go find them.”


	9. Weak Links

“Hyaah!”

Link lunged again with his sword at Hilda, but she expertly parried his blow and returned the gesture with a thrust of her rapier. “Is that the best you can do?”  
Link spun away, light on his feet as always, and retaliated with a downward slash powerful enough to cleave through a Guardian’s leg. Hilda was quick to respond, though, eager to gain ground as she swung again and caught his sword. Their blades clashed in the sunlight, the sound of metal against metal resounding throughout the training yard. With such fierce combat, one might thing this duel was the real thing.

In fact, Link and Hilda were training for their upcoming raid on the Yiga Clan’s hideout. Hilda had been the one to insist upon using their favored weapons for training, instead of the wooden replicas created for this very purpose. Link had been concerned that she would be hurt by the Master Sword, but she was soundly putting his concerns to rest. 

Their blades locked again, straining against each other in their eagerness to break the stalemate. Hilda’s scarlet eyes were enthralled with the fierce joy of battle. “If I had the Master Sword,” she taunted, “then I think this duel would be over!”

“Maybe you’re right.” He turned the Master Sword in his hand so the flat of the blade caught the sunlight, which he flashed right into Hilda’s eyes. She cried out, giving Link enough of an opening to shove her away, knock her rapier out of her hand, and win the sparring match.

He leveled the tip of the Master Sword at Hilda’s throat. “Lucky me.”

She stared down the blade for a long moment, her jaw clenching. But then they both grinned at each other, and sheathed their weapons, Hilda scooping hers off the ground and returning it to her belt. “You fight dirty.”

“I fight to save my life.” Link untied his hair, combed through the sweaty locks, and then retied it. “Don’t tell me you won against the Lizalfo army with _honor._ ”

“You know that story?”

“I think everyone within a five-mile radius of Ravio knows that story.”

She rolled her eyes, adjusting the belt on her training tunic. When she looked back up, though, her gaze landed on something past his shoulder, and judging by the way her face lit up, Link knew exactly who.

If her look wasn’t enough, then the excitement radiating behind him would be. “Looks like you were having a little too much fun, Hilda!” said Ravio as he came bounding up to them. “You sure you were training?”

Ravio’s face and arms were streaked with grease, which Hilda avoided when she took his hands, but he was all smiles as he said, “Our first batch of heat-resistant chains is done! Ten have entered lab testing, but they’re already showing excellent results.”

“Wonderful! Excellent work, Ravio.” She squeezed his hands and then pulled away, marching back to the training ground. As she drew her rapier, she added, “Keep me posted. Link, again.”

Link drew the Master Sword again, but Ravio had followed Hilda to their match, stepping between the training partners. “Y’know, Princess,” said Ravio, his chest puffing out. “We had a little misfire, but I took care of it.”

“A misfire?” Hilda lowered her sword. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he replied flippantly. “Some of Ardali’s archers got a little overzealous with the first chain. They shot fire arrows near one another, and one sustained minor burns.”

“What?” Hilda sheathed her rapier again and made for the door. Her proud smile had fallen, replaced by urgency. “Where is the archer now?”

“He’s in the infirmary, but don’t worry!” He chased after her and stopped her in her tracks, running his hands down her arms. “I took care of it. He’s gonna be just fine. And we got some valuable research outta it, too!”

Hilda brushed his hands away. “Apologies, Link. We will continue our training later.”

He bowed his head. “Of course, Your Grace.”

“Whoa, whoa, Hilda. I said he’s fine!” said Ravio, appalled. “Your good ol’ Ravio took care of the whole thing.”

“He is still a subject of mine who was injured doing work for me. This isn’t a debate. I’m going to see him.”

She turned back to Link. Her face was hard, and her words were firm. “Please go to the laboratory and ensure that no other ‘misfires,’ have occurred, and then come back here to continue training.”

“Link?” Ravio’s eyes landed on the hero, who was equally confused. “Why him?”

“Because he seems to understand the chain of command more than you do, as of this moment. Incidents like this are not to be kept from me, Ravio. This _cannot_ be kept from me.”

Hilda brushed past him and marched back inside. Link followed in her suit, feeling Ravio’s eyes on him as he passed by. And there was anger in that stare, washing over Link like the surf of Lurelin’s beaches, but he dare not say anything. Link may have fallen into a habit of it, but he didn’t enjoy disrespecting the orders of a queen, even one not his own.

Link strode off to the laboratory, leaving a stunned Ravio behind. The ergonomic construction of Lorule Castle never ceased to amaze him. It was similar to Akkala Citadel, but even more bare bones. This was hardly a castle—if anything, it was a fort. The Loruleans were a pragmatic people, too, he noticed. The meals were satisfactory but practical; meat and potatoes, nothing like King Rhoam’s extravagant feasts. The castle had its luxuries, but they were few and far between. Lorule was the land of pragmatists to such a severe degree that none had balked at using valuable gemstones as armor! This place was strange, but Link found himself among kindred spirits here. He was never much of a showman.

He arrived at the laboratory, where a workshop had been set up for the Zora mages. The mages were at their workbenches, dutifully crafting the armor with Ravio’s Wisdom Gloves. Light would flash within their palms and glance off the surface of the stones as they refined the magic within it, creating a spectacular light show to passing visitors. And as lovely as the show was, the mages were hard at work, and would be for some time, too, judging from the scores of newly-mined rubies that sat in sacks in the corner. Princess Canta had been taking inventory of the rubies, but had stopped and was evidently deep in conversation with, in all her ashy-faced glory—

“Zelda?”

The pair princesses turned. There stood Princess Zelda, a little singed from her journey to Death Mountain, but looking healthy and happy. Her eyebrows lifted when she saw her knight walking towards her, and her mouth opened to say something when he drew up to them, but Link had already dropped to his knee and bowed his head. Their squabble had churned in his stomach every day since she left, though he hadn't yet found the right words to fix things. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I did not realize you had returned.”

He stood and was met with Zelda’s tight, careful smile. “I’m glad to see you again.”

She didn’t move, but her face betrayed an odd longing, similar to the feeling occupying Link’s own chest. He asked, “Are you well?”

“Yes, very.” She gestured back to Canta and the inventory. “We brought in more rubies. I got in only an hour ago, I think. Less, even. And I was just discussing with Canta that Durus should be along in the next few days with another shipment.” She turned back to the abandoned Zora. “And will that be enough, Princess?”

Canta was beaming, happy to take the invitation and walk over to them. “I think it will be more than enough for Ardali’s warriors, as long as Hilda gives the go-ahead.” Canta’s eyes landed on Link, and she shyly looked down to the ground, a blush spreading over her lavender cheeks.

Zelda didn’t notice, or was very politely pretending to ignore it. She turned back to Link and exclaimed, “Then in a few more days, we’ll be ready to raid the Yiga Hideout! And we can put a stop to Ganon once and for all.”

Canta’s smile could light up the darkest night. “Before he ever rises in the first place.”

Zelda was grinning, too, and Link made an honest effort, but he could not dodge the uncomfortable feeling in his bones. He remembered when the Hylian army thought they had all their bases covered in the first place. Hyrule had had a veritable army of Guardians in working order; they had felt invincible then, too.

 

&

 

_The crown is swiftly moving to attack the Yiga stronghold in the tundra. There is little I can do to stop it save sending this letter. Be ready and prepared—and if I am swept into the fight myself, treat me like a stranger. I can continue to misdirect them as long as I remain unseen._

_The young swordsman’s name is Link. He carries the Master Sword from another realm. If you destroy him, you will destroy the greatest threat to our cause._

_Good luck. Be safe._

 

&

 

“Link?”

He turned away from the training Rito archers to face Princess Canta. All of Princess Hilda’s gathered forces were training hard in their upcoming assault on the Yiga, but Link had taken these five minutes to see the Rito’s mastery of the air himself (and to make good on a quiet favor of Hilda’s, to make sure Ravio did not try to hide any more training incidents). The Rito of Lorule had set up an outdoor archery range just outside Ravio’s workshop, where the inventor could observe the effect of the heat-retaining charms, of which the mages had made nearly enough. They would be ready to move out any day now. 

Link stood with the Master Sword’s sheath’s tip planted in the ground, hands on the pommel, exactly like how he stood guard over Princess Zelda in the Spring of Power. Now, though, Canta had drawn him away from his quiet observation, sidling up to him and attracting his attention by putting her hand on his arm. His grip tightening on the Sword, he murmured, “What is it?”

Canta was crestfallen. “I will not be joining you during the raid,” she said. “Zoras are not built for the cold, I fear, so I will remain here with my people.”

“That’s too bad.” Her destructive magic would have been invaluable on the battlefield. “It would be an honor to fight by your side.”

“Be safe, Link,” she whispered, taking his hands. “Can you promise me that? Notwithstanding what happened in the hot spring, because I know we have yet to talk about it, but this is hardly the time—”

“Princess.” He turned his body towards her, relaxing out of his rigid posture, and gestured for her to walk with him. If she wanted secrecy, he would oblige. Why should the Rito overhear this? “I promise I will be careful. If it makes you feel better, I’m old hat at vanquishing mighty evils.”

She chuckled, but there was no humor behind it, only nerves. Her index finger hooked around his, linking them together. “Good to hear, I suppose,” she said as she glanced back at the archers, who flitted between earth and sky as easily as one might flip a coin. Deft fliers, and accurate shooters: every arrow was hitting the mark. “Between that, the Rito, the Gerudo, and Princess Hilda herself, you will be well protected.”

“Not to mention the Master Sword.” They had walked some ways away, further and further out of sight of the Rito, until they found themselves hidden around the corner of the laboratory, totally out of sight. “I promise, Canta, I will return to Lorule Castle.”

She let out a relieved sigh. “It’s nice to hear you say those things. In this time of uncertainty, surety is very comforting.” She bit her lip and raised her eyebrows. “I’m unsure of a lot of things these days.”

“I know.” He drew closer to her and felt a primal tug on his heart, the need to assure and protect. “Forgive me if I’m being forward, Princess, but let me offer you what I can. I am sure that nothing in Lorule can stop me from clawing my way back to you.”

“Oh, Link.” She sucked in a breath, her hands sliding up his chest. “That’s no more forward than you were in the spring.”

And suddenly her hands were curled into his tunic and her lips met his, and he was dropping the Master Sword to the grass and pulling her closer. His hands ran over her jeweled collar, fingers tangling into the white sash she wore.

There was nothing in Hyrule or Lorule that would stop Link from getting back to Canta. Nothing in any world.


	10. Fight and Flight

“They should reach the Yiga today.”

“I know.”

Ravio smirked over at Zelda. “Is that why you’re up this early, too?”

Zelda nodded bashfully, taking a sip from her goblet. They stood together on the breakfast veranda, clutching goblets of mulled wine to warm their bones. They were watching the sun rise over Lorule, illuminating the mountains to the south and, if they squinted, the tundra to the west. Somewhere in that tundra, Link, Hilda, and their allies were making their steady way to the Yiga clan’s headquarters, armed with Ravio’s ingenious heat-retaining contraptions. They were chains wrapped around the talon of a Rito—the only place a chain flopping around wouldn’t interfere with aerial combat. The magically-refined rubies were embedded in the chain and would protect the warrior as they flew and fought.

Ravio hadn’t tied back his long, raven-black hair, which hung past his shoulders. Zelda rarely saw him without it tied tightly back so as not to interfere with his work in his lab. Now he was unkempt with dark circles under his eyes, staring into his wine as though he could divine the outcome of today’s battle from it. 

She knew the feeling. If she had her powers again, maybe she could have another premonition through her dreams and see if today would end for good or for ill. She would have gladly stayed in bed and chance a vision if she were able to fall asleep in the first place. 

But Zelda had lain awake in bed, praying to whatever goddess presided over Lorule to ensure the safety of their allies and Link.

“Hilda’s gonna be just fine,” said Ravio, taking a long sip of his mulled wine. 

“Of course,” said Zelda. “She has Link with her, and Link has the Master Sword. With that and the Hylian Shield, she’ll be just fine.”

“She’s done this over and over, too,” Ravio said thoughtfully as they both turned back to the horizon, feeling the chill of the dawn weave into their bones. “They’re gonna be just fine.”

 

&

 

Fulgura closed the telescope with a snap and crouched behind the snowdrift, turning to address a shivering Link and Zelda. The Lorulean tundra was unforgiving, though Fulgura hardly batted an eye. “The Rito are close.”

Behind them, Ardali was hardly bothered by the cold, thanks to the shiny heat-retaining chain on his talon. He had chanced the terrain to travel with Link, Hilda, and Fulgura, as well as Fulgura’s impressive outfit of Gerudo warriors. They were knelt in the snow behind them, avoiding the Yiga’s detection. Ardali said, “They’ll reach the hideout before long. We should move in now.”

Link and Hilda climbed to their feet. Fulgura yelled to her faction of warriors in Gerudo language. The dozens of soldiers saluted and began to march through the snow, expertly powering through the drifts that reached Link’s hip. Whether on this side of a rift or the other, the Gerudo found a home in the most extreme environments, and Link rather thought the Hylian army could learn a thing or two from them.

“Ardali,” said Hilda as he prepared to lift off. “Take Link with you.”

“Your Grace?” They hadn’t discussed this beforehand, and Hilda had discussed _everything_ beforehand—everything but this.

She turned to Link. “You have the Master Sword. We don’t know what’s in there, and there’s a chance that we may be met by some form of Ganon already resurrected. The light-bringing sword should be the weapon he is met by.”

“Very well, Your Grace.”

Ardali lifted into the air and grasped Link’s shoulders with his talons. As they soared away from Hilda and Fulgura, Ardali’s talons digging into his shoulders, Link couldn’t help but remember how Teba, one of Hyrule’s finest Rito archers, had taken him upon his back when they attacked the Divine Beast Vah Medoh. He had thought the conditions of that battle, the biting winds and the lasers firing every three seconds, had been brutal, but at least they hadn’t been this humiliating. 

They soared closer and closer to a circular shape in the snow, which Link quickly realized was man-made. It was a fort of snow and ice, meticulously built so that none could penetrate it on any side.

Good thing Princess Hilda thought of the air. The Rito platoon were coming in from the north, passing through the buffeting arctic winds as if they were a mild summer breeze. As they passed over the walls, Link noticed eight masked people patrolling the entrances at each cardinal direction, two to each door. With the Rito swarming in, it wouldn’t be long before they noticed the threat.

“Drop me in the center!” Link called up to Ardali.

The Rito looked down at him, shocked. “You won’t have backup!”

“They’ll see your people coming. I’ll keep them busy!”

With that, Ardali shrugged and released him, and Link was sent flying into the Yiga’s headquarters.

Wind whistling through his hair, Link whipped out Ravio’s collapsible paraglider, which snapped into shape and caught the air, slowing his descent. He navigated towards the southern wall of the hideout, mind working fast. If he could draw their attention away from the Rito in the north—

He landed on the outer edge of the wall and crouched, folding up the paraglider and stowing it away. As he crept closer to the southern entrance, the first thing he noticed was that the Yiga clan were outfitted in the deep purple of Hyrule’s Sheikah, though the white Sheikah eye emblazoned on their coats was still upside down.

He crossed to the inner edge of the wall and leaped down.

The guards near the southern entrance heard the snow crunch beneath his feet and whirled around, thrusting their spears at him. In one fluid motion, Link drew the Master Sword and fended off the spear tips both at once, as loudly and noticeably as possible. And soon, he heard the other guards yelling to each other and rushing through the snow to meet him in combat.

His arm slid effortlessly into the Hylian Shield’s straps as he armed himself, and not a moment too soon, for a scimitar came slashing towards him that the shield intercepted. Another spear with a curved tip made its break at him, but he managed to get his blade caught in the tip’s edge and force it to the ground. He stepped on the staff and slashed at the Yiga, who ducked his swing and lay flat in the snow.

What he wouldn’t give for Urbosa’s Fury! Like Zelda’s sealing power, the Champion’s dying gifts to him faded after Ganon fell. He could knock out all eight of these Yiga in one fell swoop, and could likely power through the rest of the Yiga army—wherever they were. But where were they? Hilda was too thorough in her planning to bring them to a tiny Yiga outpost by mistake.

Suddenly, a geyser of Yiga purple broke through from underneath the snow and flooded the fort, surging toward Link with so many weapons that he was nearly blinded by the sunlight they flashed in his direction. If only Hilda could see him now!

As he lifted his shield, he spotted the Rito forces arriving overhead. Ardali led the way, a loaded bomb arrow pointed at the oncoming horde.

He loosed the arrow, which made contact with the ground and exploded a little too close to Link for comfort. Link dove out of the way as the explosion shook the ground and the Yiga forces burst into screams.

Arrows rained down upon the Yiga fort as the Gerudo stormed the western entrance. Princess Hilda led the charge as they cut into the masked Yiga, many of whom were still climbing out of the snow. Where are they coming from? he thought, slashing at the side of another opponent. It seemed as though their reinforcements had no end, all crawling up from under the snow.

He found Fulgura in the crowded fort, which had now become a packed battlefield. He watched as she fought her way to the center of the field where the Yiga were coming from. Another wayward bomb arrow came sailing towards Link, and the flung himself away again, though the snow didn’t catch him with its firm crunch. He kept falling and falling through the bloodied snow and into a hole in the ground, narrow and deep with light near the bottom. His hands, which were reaching out, grabbed something icy and brittle, which halted his descent enough for him to realize where he was: he was clinging to a rope ladder in an underground tunnel.   
He scrambled to get his footing in the ladder, but the rope was so frozen and so weak from his catch that it cracked and broke, and Link was once again sent him tumbling twenty feet down—into an underground cavern full of armed Yiga.

For one long moment, he stared at the upside-down shapes, who seemed equally stunned to find him here; but then the spell broke, and he leaped to his feet and glanced back at the tunnel he’d fallen down, only to find the remains of the rope ladder in a heap on the ground. When he looked back, the Yiga were surging toward him all together, like one gigantic beast.

He drew the Master Sword and dove into the fray, eyes on the curved-point spear racing toward him. He batted it away with his shield and thrust the Master Sword forward. The Yiga regained her footing while a second approached him with a scimitar—yes, that was more familiar. He parried that away with his sword and cut the other in the side, only to be replaced by a third, fourth, and fifth. A ferocious battle cry near the entrance distracted him for a moment, resulting in a sliced leg; but when he looked to its source, he found Fulgura barreling into the fight, warding off blows aimed at him with her shield. “Be careful!”

More Gerudo warriors were leaping down into the underground cavern and cutting into the cluster. Link hadn’t realized he had made such an intelligent play: by destroying the rope ladder, he had divided the Yiga forces into two groups, each trapped within the confines of their own headquarters. With the Rito raining fire topside and Link and the Gerudo waging war underground, the Yiga didn’t have much choice but to lose, though they didn’t falter, apparently deciding on fighting to the bitter end.

And in that moment, Link knew they were going to win.

Link threw himself further into the Yiga hideout. No leader had surfaced to direct their forces, which meant that leader was doing the other thing a good leader would do: destroying what the invaders wanted.

The cavern Link had fallen into was actually the first in a network of underground caves, which he, as he was fighting, couldn’t help but marvel at the work that went into creating this place. Digging through frozen ground during a constant blizzard? It was a difficult process for a genius outcome. Hyrule’s Yiga were much less organized, and lacking in intelligence. Hyrule had gotten lucky.

As he fought his way through the winding corridors, Link found food storage, an armory, bunks, and a sparring room, but nothing that resembled a leader in any of them. Soon, though, he reached a door at the end of a hallway, within which hung a thick curtain emblazoned with the white Yiga eye. Smoke was pouring through the curtain and stinging Link’s eyes as he drew closer. The air was blazing hot, making him sweat under his Snowquill Tunic. He took a deep breath and stormed through the curtain.

Fire licked up the walls of the room and ate the stack of maps and journals sitting on a table in the center. A white-haired Yiga was pulling an armful of journals from a bookcase, rushing to destroy the tangible records of Yiga history. 

She turned on her heel and tossed the journals into the fire, and only then did she notice Link standing there. She wasn’t wearing a mask like every other warrior, which meant he caught a clear look at her face, which distracted him a moment too long.

_“Paya?”_

A dagger whistled through the air and embedded itself into his chest with deadly accuracy. Link collapsed to the ground, stunned from the double blow. Paya had a scowl on her face as she hurried over to him, watching coldly as he gasped for breath and wrenched the dagger out free, sending a new wave of pain through him. She picked up one last book from the floor, tossed it onto the pyre, and then clapped her hands together. Paya vanished into a puff of smoke, leaving Link wounded on the floor of the burning room.


	11. A Somber Day in Lorule

No one knew what to do after the failure of the Yiga raid.

Canta sent her mages home and Ardali said the same to his archers, though each ambassador lingered at Lorule Castle. Fulgura and Durus were also returning, duty-bound to remain nearby. Like it or not, they had pledged their service to Princess Hilda, and would see this task through until the world was safe again and Ganon was nothing but an unpleasant memory, and they would remain here however long that took.

The Yiga had destroyed _everything_. The Gerudo managed to scavenge scraps of maps from the pyre, but nothing that concerned the rise of Ganon or how to combat it. All that planning, and Link’s grievous wounds, was for _nothing_. 

Link got plenty of visitors in Lorule Castle’s hospital wing, though he didn’t remember talking to most of them. He would remember flashes of faces between long, deep slumbers as his body recovered from the near-fatal knife wound. Hilda and Ravio periodically stopped in, as did the other ambassadors, but two faces in particular turned up very frequently. Those belonged to Canta and Zelda, who each seemed more distraught than the other at his condition and proved it by never leaving him alone. Plainly, Link didn’t know what Zelda was doing here when she should be consulting with Hilda, when the tepid, tense peace between them seemed stronger than ever. But when he finally found the strength to remain awake during the day, she would be at his bedside, changing his bandages and, until recently, begging Ardali to tell her how he got into this sorry state.

The Rito heir had been hesitant to tell the story, but Zelda finally wore him down and he relayed the tale over a dozing Link, too exhausted to protest. Of all people, Ardali had found Link in the headquarters’ council room, mortally wounded and choking on the smoke, and carried him outside himself. The smoke forced both sides of the conflict out of the hideout, where the Yiga finally surrendered to the overwhelming might of the Lorulean and Gerudo forces. He hardly waited for the order from Hilda before flying back to Lorule Castle with Link. He now spent his days coughing and sleeping in the infirmary, though Hilda’s hopelessness reached even this far-off wing, permeating the whole castle.

This afternoon, which marked the fifth day Link had spent bedridden, Zelda, fresh from a council meeting, was talking over other possibilities for their next steps. When his bandages needed changing, she attended his wounds with a rigorous punctuality to rival the strictest general, and as she worked out plan after plan, a pattern arose in her line of thinking: she was looking for plans that involved their other allies’ expertise, keeping Link firmly installed in Lorule Castle. He hadn’t mastered reading Zelda yet, but he knew that she often worked faster and harder under a guilty conscience.

“Our next step, I think, is to finally consult with the Zoras,” she said, poring over a hastily-drawn map of Lorule lain across Link’s legs. “They’re the historians of Lorule, so perhaps they’ll have something in their records that can help.”

“I’ll go, too.” His voice was rough. “In case we find a lead. It’ll be best for the Master Sword to move as quickly as possible.”

Zelda froze and then shook her head. “You’re still recovering. You’ll slow it all down.”

“Then why are we talking to historians?” He looked at her, but she didn’t meet his gaze. “We have a prophecy and Lorule’s library. That’s all we have time to consult.”

Zelda’s brow furrowed and she rolled up the map. “It’s time to change your bandages,” she said pointedly, shifting forward in her seat. She pulled back his blankets and carefully peeled away his layers of bandages, slowly revealing the half-healed wound that, though in a far better condition than it would have been, still looked worse for wear.

She opened up the bottle on his nightstand that contained a magical salve, concocted by both Ravio and Hilda, rubbed the salve over her hands, and then massaged it into and around the wound, going gently and slowly. Link reached down to grip the wooden bedframe, doing his absolute best not to wince at the spikes of pain. “We cannot just strike when we don’t know where our target is,” he grunted. “We should have known more going in.”

Their eyes met for a moment and her hands stilled, before she quickly looked away and went back to work. “It seems Hilda and I have a penchant for acting rashly.”  
So that was as close as she was going to get, wasn’t it? Well, he was done waiting for her to bring it up. He’d have to take matters into his own hands.

“Why did you say those things?” His voice was rough. She didn’t look up from her work, but she knew Link’s eyes were on her. “Before you left for Goron City. Why did you say those things about Canta and I?”

He caught the littlest twitch of her ears. “We don’t have to talk about it. I don’t want to cause you more stress.”

“It’s all you’re thinking about. Were you really worried about Canta?”

She heaved a sigh and looked up at him again. Her face was softer than he had seen it lately, regretful and open. “Yes, but I was worried about you, too. You didn’t have nearly as much time to mourn the Champions’ loss as me. I know that. And that’s how I know—at least, I thought—that this closeness with Canta was going to hurt you.”

“Because she looks like Mipha?”

“Yes. And because you’re hurting enough to trick yourself.” 

His heart was sinking. He had expected to be angry, but nothing she was saying ignited the flint in his heart. Zelda rinsed and dried her hands, reaching for the clean set of bandages as she added, “I was so happy to see Fulgura, too. You remember how close Urbosa and I were. But I told Fulgura about her because she deserved to know what was happening. Come on, sit up.”

He sat up slowly with her help, gently prying his rusty bones free. She wrapped the bandages snugly around his torso, a careful eye on his body. Could she also see the shame creeping up his neck? Could she read the muscles of his stomach and see the hard pit forming in it? “You and Urbosa were different,” he defended. “You weren’t what Mipha and I were.”

“I know, which is why it’s even more important for you to tell her. She deserves to be on the same page, no matter who Mipha was to you.” She heaved another sigh and tied off the bandage, tucking the edge of the cloth under the first layer. “You say it was Paya’s lookalike who did this to you?”

He nodded. “Whoever it was. I was so shocked to see Paya in the Yiga headquarters, much less being their leader.”

“That’s exactly it, though.” She lay him back down in bed, drew the covers up, and perched on the edge. “That wasn’t Paya, just like how Fulgura isn’t Urbosa and Canta isn’t Mipha. The longer we stay in Lorule, the easier it will be to forget that. And I don’t want to forget my Urbosa, even for the chance of seeing her alive again.”

She met his eyes again, holding them with a gaze that was open, honest, and vulnerable, something Zelda rarely showed even to him. “I’m sorry for how I lashed out at you, Link. I should have told you all of this before the Yiga raid, because if Ardali hadn’t gotten you out—”

“Zelda—Princess, sorry—”

“Please, call me Zelda—”

“It’s okay.” He offered an encouraging smile, but inside he felt nothing but dread. “I'm very, very lucky to have a friend like you.”

She broke into a smile of her own. “Thank you, Link. You know that you’ll always be my closest, dearest friend.”

“It’s an honor and a privilege.”

He saw movement over the corner of her shoulder. It was Princess Canta at the entrance of the infirmary, smile wide and steps quick as she made a beeline for Link.  
“Zelda?” He met her eyes again and gestured with his chin to the door. “I need to speak to Canta alone.”

She looked over her shoulder and nodded, poorly concealing her glowing pride. “I’m headed to Ravio’s lab. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to send someone.”

“I will.”

Zelda departed, sparing a quick hello for the incoming Princess Canta. “Good afternoon, Link,” said Canta, perching on the edge of his bed. She leaned down, lips puckered, but he reached up and put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from coming any further.

Her brow furrowed. “Link?”

“I’m afraid there’s something I haven’t told you.” 

Canta was so sweet and kind to him, hard working and intelligent and all things he could have fallen in love with, except that he already had once before. He was going to break her heart, but breaking her heart would be the only way to do her justice.

In fact, as he retold the tale of his and Mipha’s courtship, Calamity Ganon, and the boon Lorule gave him, he realized there was quite a lot he hadn’t told her. Their allies knew broadly that he and Zelda were from another world, but they didn’t all know the tangled ties the interlopers had with their Hylian counterparts. Canta didn’t know how her face had allowed him to return to a life he thought would only exist in memory and dreams. And the more Link revealed, the more he realized how deeply he had fallen under his own spell.

Canta listened with a stony expression. She was a smart young woman who had doubtlessly put the pieces together as soon as he spilled the first few, but she was silent and cold, apparently committed to hearing him draw out the whole sorry story. Silence fell when he finished as she mulled it all over, toying with the edge of her white sash and staring at the stone beneath her feet. She had gone so still that it took a long time for Link to realize what she wanted to hear.

“I’m sorry.” He fought the impulse to reach for her hand. “I was wrong to have let things get so out of hand. You’re an incredible woman, Canta. This is all _my_ fault.”

She turned to him finally, tears welling up in her eyes. “How would you know what I am?” she whispered, her voice strained. “Did you ever see me under your lost love’s face? Did you ever care to get to know me?”

“I did, Canta,” he said, struggling as he sat up again. “You’re going to be an amazing queen someday. But what we have between us—it’s exciting and passionate, but it can’t go further. It’s not good for me, and living in another’s shadow is far less than what you deserve.”

She wiped her eyes and looked back over at him, her eyes landing on the Master Sword propped on his bed. She scowled and said, “You told me that the wielder of your Master Sword embodies the spirit of courage. Does courage require cruelty in your world, Link? Because I can’t imagine a crueler thing to do to anyone. Goodbye.”

She turned on her heel and marched out of the infirmary. Link sank back into bed, his wound throbbing painfully and acidic guilt swallowing his heart.


	12. Pressure

“There must be something we’re missing.” Princess Hilda, violet hair tied in a knot at the nape of her neck, was poring over the paper scraps rescued from the Yiga clan’s headquarters. Fulgura was pacing the length of the room slowly, staring at the table as though she could intimidate it into talking. “There must be something we caught before they destroyed it.”

Zelda glanced at the council room table. They had piled all their resources in this room: the Yiga’s notes, Ravio’s journal, the marked-up maps. Even one or two of Ravio’s heat-retaining chains had made it here. Zelda reached for the inventor’s journal and leafed through until she found the scribbles of the prophecy that had brought them all together.

_Ganon will be born from a crimson womb,_  
rising without fear of the sword that seals.  
Broken free by fear from his divine tomb,  
The devil with which a friend deals. 

“ ‘Crimson womb.’ That’s the blood moon, yes.” 

“And ‘sword that seals’ is fairly obvious,” said Fulgura. “Dealing with the devil, though? Could that refer to a lieutenant of his?”

Said Hilda, “Prophecies are full of language like that. Poetic, but unclear, and ultimately useless.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Fulgura replied, eyes narrowing. “Your royal fortune-teller is one of the Gerudo’s most powerful mages.”

“So?”

“What about the phrase ‘divine tomb’?” Zelda butted in. “Could that mean something?”

“I don’t know, and if I did, I would have told you by now,” Hilda snapped. Zelda let cold silence fall over the room until her double broke and she said, “My apologies, Princess. You’re not a subject of mine.”

“You shouldn’t snap at your subjects, either.” But how could Zelda say she had never done the same? She had lashed out at Link before, who never wavered once in his service. She looked at Fulgura, who had fixed Hilda with a hard stare, and said, “I think we both understand the pressure to protect your people.”

The Gerudo’s chin tilted up. “Of course we do.”

Hilda sank into a chair and sighed. “I’m trying to save my kingdom, but nothing we’re doing is working. The Yiga were our only sure bet when all we have to go off is a prophecy!”

“We arrested plenty of Yiga,” Zelda said. “And the ones who got away are scattered. Whatever their plans are, they’re on hold. Ganon’s rise won’t come from them.”

“But the prophecy still rings true! If we don’t figure out where and when he’ll rise, this will all have been for nothing!”

Fulgura froze, stunned. “You still expect Ganon’s return?”

Hilda scoffed. “I would be a fool not to.”

“Then what is all of this for?” Fulgura marched towards her, roughly pushing the wooden chairs out of the way of her route. “We have all thrown ourselves into your crusade against Ganon’s rise, Hilda. What was the point of risking our lives if you’re still putting stock in a prophesied return? Was our goal not to kill Ganon in his cradle? To stop his return before it happens?”

“Of course it was, if we could!” Hilda shot back, rising to her feet. 

“And did we not accomplish just that by rounding up his custodians?”

“A prophecy is a prophecy, and if it says in plain language that he will return, no matter what we do to stop him, then his return will come to pass!”

“Plain language? You just said it was poetry!”

“Plain for a _prophecy!_ ”

“So what you’re telling me,” Fulgura hissed, “is that to you, all those you gathered here would not have needed to remain here weeks away from our homes, give up our people’s time and resources, and sacrifice their lives, because no matter what we do, Ganon’s return will come to pass?”

The room was crackling while fissures erupted between its inhabitants. No, no, no! “Lady Fulgura,” said Zelda, “please understand—”

“I understand plenty, Princess.” Fulgura turned on her heel and stormed out.

Heavy silence fell over the council room again, wrapping tightly around the two princesses. Hilda took a deep breath and returned to the Yiga scraps. Zelda said, “Hilda—”

“Please, let’s get back to work.”

Just then, a guard opened the door. “Your Grace,” she said, “Lord Durus of the Gorons has arrived.”

“Durus!” Zelda leaped to her feet and went to the door, excited to greet her friend, but stopped in her tracks. Hilda remained at work, hardly looking up. “Hilda, do you want to welcome Durus?”

“He can find his way here.” She reached for Ravio’s journal. “Go ahead. I have work to do.”

 

&

 

“Careful, there, now!”

“I’m doing just fine,” said Link, swinging the Master Sword in the disciplined arcs he practiced every day, though much slower to accommodate the ache in his side. Ravio watched nervously beside him, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“There’s no tearing,” said Ravio, leaning down to examine the scar tissue on Link’s naked torso. “Previous recipes were effective, of course, but the salve we gave you was the fastest-working we designed yet, and still pretty new. I had full confidence, of course, but one never really knows.”

“I could have used some on my shoulders, too.” Link rolled his shoulders, which still bore scars from his literal flight from the western tundra. The Rito who rescued him clamped down on his shoulders with his sharp talons and gripped tightly, carrying him across Lorule. There were worse scars to bear, but the muscle tissue in his shoulders was tight, now, and meant he had to adjust his swing.

Ravio gave him a sympathetic look. “We gotta save that stuff for emergencies, buddy.”

“I know. Still, feel free to hand the recipe off to Zelda.” He grabbed his tunic from where he’d slung it over the low wall, pulling it back on. He was back in his Champion’s Tunic after passing through the clothes loaned to him by Ravio. Those fit like a glove, but few things would feel better on his scarred skin than this tunic crafted by Zelda.

He picked up the Master Sword again and slung it on his back, where it fell into its familiar place. Link had recovered in record time, thanks to Ravio’s methods and an order from Zelda to rest, but he was back on his feet finally, ready to help.

Though from the bits and pieces he caught, it didn’t sound as though there wasn’t much to do. “Your turn. Tell me what the situation is. Zelda hasn’t been keeping me in the loop.”

Ravio shrugged, heaving a sigh. “Not much to keep you in the loop with, really. The princesses have been stonewalled.”

“Is that what they’re calling it?”

They turned and found Ardali stalking towards them, his wingtips curled into fists and his beady eyes leveled on them. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks rather like the crown is keeping us hostage here until it decides it wants to act!”

“Princess Hilda is doing everything she can,” Ravio assured, soothing him like a nurse would a fussy baby. “She’s gonna see us through this, I know she will.”

“That makes one of us! Are we going to move again, or must we wait and wait to go home until she gives us leave?”

“C’mon, we just gotta be patient.” Ravio glanced at Link for help. Link, who had previously never interfered in political disagreements back home, found himself oddly equipped to deal with this one.

“Princess Zelda and I miss home, too,” he said. “We understand, Ardali. But we also know what will happen if we give up now. Defeating Ganon took patience—for my princess, quite a lot. And if we could have a little more patience to figure out exactly where and when he plans on striking, then we could save hundreds of lives.”

Ardali’s brow furrowed. “I never said anything about giving up.”

“If we let our frustrations divide us, that’s exactly what we’re doing.” King Rhoam had been tough on Zelda, but his talent for discipline made him an effective leader, to say the least. Organizing the Divine Beasts’ extraction and marshaling the scientists to bring the Guardians back to life was not achieved with wishy-washy leadership. “It takes a unified force to defeat Ganon. Things are slow-going now, but we need everyone here when things pick up, because when they do, they’ll pick up _fast._ ”

Ardali narrowed his beady eyes at him. “You’re sure she’s close to a breakthrough?”

Ravio nodded. “Y-Yeah. Oh, yeah. She’s right there, I’m sure of it.”

“Hmm.” Ardali turned and went back towards the door, apparently satisfied with his answer, though Link had gotten better at spotting liars.

Link hurried after him, catching up with him near the door. “Prince Ardali?”

“What is it?”

“I wanted to say thank you.”

Ardali froze. “Pardon?”

“I may have been out of it, but I know it was you who saved my life in the Yiga hideout.” Ardali had pulled him from the flames and had flown him back to Lorule Castle. Maybe Loruleans never expected gratitude, but Link didn't let a savior go unsung. “I never got the opportunity to thank you for it.”

“Oh.” Ardali’s chest puffed out. “You’re very kind, Link, but I was doing my job as a protector of Lorule.”

“I think you deserve thanks nonetheless.” Ardali may be a terrible shot, but he was an excellent flier, and, like Revali, understood when to put his pride aside.

“I’m honored.” _Unlike_ his Hylian counterpart, though, Ardali wasn’t one to let the disagreement rest. “Do you really believe Hilda is on the brink of discovery?”

Link, unlike Ravio, didn’t waste time trying to lie. “I don’t know. But Zelda and I are prepared to wait as long as it takes. We won’t let what happened in our world happen in this one.” 

Ardali’s eyes narrowed again and he stared at him for a long moment. “You know, I’ve always wondered if you knew me in your world—the Hyrulean version of me. I’d like to know what he’s like, and if he’s as impatient as me.”

Ardali turned and walked away.

 

&

 

“No. That’s final.”

“C’mon, Hilda.” But Hilda wasn’t listening, nose buried in a book chronicling the history of Ganon. It was one of many volumes, but Ravio noticed they were divided into two piles: ones she had read, and ones she hadn’t gotten to yet. “You know how this goes. Ya need sleep, and I’m not leaving here until you’re headed to your room.”

“Fine.” She patted one pile with a gloved hand. “Take half of these. I’ll take the other, and we’ll carry them to my room for me to read.”

“Okay.” He scooped the top half of the stack into his arms. “I’ll read along with ya. And I’ll take notes, too.”

That woke her up. Hilda snapped her book shut and glared at him, her red eyes shining like fresh blood in the firelight. “You should be working on keeping our compatriots happy. And if not that, then recreating the Master Sword, so someone would be able to wield it!”

A hard pit formed in Ravio’s stomach. It wasn’t lost on him that if they still had a Master Sword in Lorule, he could have been the one to wield it. Lorule would be safe, and Hilda wouldn’t be on this path to self-destruction. 

Would he, though? He was no knight like Link. He couldn’t protect Hilda or take a blow for her in battle. So even if they still had their Sword, maybe he would still be her inventor, doing his best to save her from the safety of his laboratory.

If you loved someone, wouldn’t you be willing to die for them?

To kill for them?

Ravio shook his head as if to clear it. Link’s presence had raised many questions, but they could be ruminated on later. “Hilda, you ain’t doing anyone favors by wringing yourself out like this,” he said, moving closer to her. “I’m asking you as…as Ravio. Not as your advisor or your inventor. As me.”

He set his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. The hard mask cracked when she looked up at him, fixing him with a stare so hopeless and so afraid that he hardly recognized her. Where was the fearless princess? The battle-hardened soldier?

“Lorule is counting on me,” she whispered. “My people are counting on me, and there’s nothing I can do to save them. No matter how much I try to piece together our scraps, no matter how much history I read, there’s nothing that says we can defeat Ganon without the Master Sword. We don’t even know for sure if Hyrule’s Sword will work! What if there’s nothing that will save us?”

He pulled her into his arms, perching his chin on top of her violet head. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, hands gripping the back of his tunic like he would slip away from her. But surely she knew that he never could. He was tied to her and the fate of Lorule, now and forever. 

And he would do whatever it took to save them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading so far! Please, let me know what you think in the comments below!


	13. A Song of Storms

The coalition against Ganon was once again holed up in the council room, ready for the evening brief, but the ambassadors’ expressions ranged from Canta’s quiet boredom to Ardali’s blatant frustration. It had been ages since anyone in this room could do anything to aid their quest, and now Hilda had the nerve to delay things?

Zelda was keeping herself politely busy, leafing through the Lorulean entries in the Sheikah Slate’s encyclopedia. But even Zelda couldn’t stay silent forever. Zelda knew the value of time, and could not stand any wasted.

“Shouldn’t Hilda be here?”

Her words washed over the allies like a stormy surf. Fulgura straightened up in her chair, Ardali cocked his head, and Canta shot Link a look, as though he were the one doing wrong.

Ravio, for his part, paused his methodical leafing through his journal, meeting Zelda’s eyes for a moment before darting back down to the map of Lorule. “Why do you ask?”

Link and Zelda exchanged a glance. Zelda was perched on the arm of Hilda’s chair, and Link saw uncertainty in her eyes and a twitch in her ears—she wanted to stand down, but her curiosity was burning. “Well,” said Link, used to sacrificing himself for her, “she’s headed all the status meetings up until now. She’s the one who tells us what we need to know.”

“She was ill last night.” Ravio’s voice was tight. “I advised her to take today to rest.”

“So what are we waiting for?” Durus grumbled. “I didn’t come all the way back from Death Mountain for nothing.”

“I’m workin’ on something!” Ravio retorted. “Just gimme a few more minutes.”

“Perhaps while you work,” said Zelda, standing up beside Link, “I can lead us for tonight. Whenever she arrives, if she arrives, we’ll be sure to wish her well.”

Durus scoffed. “What’s the point? We all know there’s no progress. We might as well retire for the night.”

“The crown thanks you all again!” Ravio said hastily, his smile wide and overly gracious. He put down the journal and rounded the table towards Fulgura. “We understand the sacrifices you’re making for our cause,” he simpered, “and we dearly hope you know that you’ll be richly rewarded for your time and efforts.”

“What use are our rewards if our people continue to live without their leaders?” Fulgura shot to her feet. “We have been stuck here for weeks waiting for the crown to figure out what to do, but all any of us have done is spun our wheels!”

“Hilda’s doing her best,” he soothed. “Trust me, she’s so grateful for your help—”

“Is she?” Canta’s measured, quiet voice seemed to ring throughout the council room. “Because I haven’t seen hide nor hair from her for quite a while.”  
“Because she’s been working so hard!” Ravio pleaded. “Where do ya think this illness came from? She’s been workin’ herself to the bone because she knows Ganon’s coming, and she ain’t gonna let anything happen to you or Lorule!”

Link looked at Zelda. Zelda had grown into a deft diplomat during her time on Hyrule’s throne proper, and if anyone had a hope of diffusing the situation, it would be her. But, in fact, Zelda’s eyes were dancing between the maps of Hyrule and Lorule, glancing down at Ravio’s journal in her hands. She was frantically paging through it, apparently deaf to the tensions in the room.

Link cleared his throat. “We’re all frustrated, but trust me when I say that it’s better when nothing is happening instead of when the world is falling down around us.”  
“Better for who?” Canta fired back. “Certainly not for the people back home aching for our guidance!”

“We, too, want to return to our world, but we understand the challenges a crusade against Ganon demands. If you knew what happened to Hyrule—”

“Yes, we know!” snapped Ardali. “I’ve heard that song from you before.”

“Trust me, Link,” Canta seethed, “when I say we would love to see you off to your home world, too!”

“What in Lorule is going on here?”

All seven heads as one snapped towards the door of the council room. Princess Hilda, bags under her fiery eyes, stood there, astonished at the sight before her.  
“What is the meaning of this?”

“Hil—Princess!” Ravio straightened up, a sheepish smile on his face. “Shouldn’t ya be in bed?”

She marched to the head of the table, hands balled into fists. “My apologies, everyone. I told my advisor to cancel today’s meeting, but clearly the message didn’t come across. Ravio, what is the meaning of this?”

“Actually, Your Grace,” Fulgura hissed, “I’m grateful Ravio called this meeting. I would like to formally withdraw my and my people’s service to your endeavor.”

Hilda paled. “Please, Lady Fulgura, I understand your frustration—”

“I am not sure you do, if I may speak frankly. My patience has worn thin, and my people need me. All our people need their leaders back home! We cannot afford to sacrifice this much if we want our provinces to remain in good health!”

“You offered your fealty of your own free will!” Hilda straightened up, her red eyes burning. “I need you here, because Ganon could resurface at any moment and I refuse to allow Lorule to be caught defenseless! My apologies, but you must stay here. None of you can return to your people.”

The council room fell into chaos as noise filled it to bursting. The ambassadors cried out in anger and betrayal, and Ravio was desperately pleading with Hilda to be more understanding, but she was ignoring all of it, staring straight ahead. It took more than shouting to rattle Princess Hilda.

One voice rose clearly above the rest. Link caught it, having attuned himself to her every word, but these words in particular caught everyone’s attention. Zelda cried out, “There’s a Master Sword here!”

Everyone fell silent in an instant. Princess Zelda was more nervous than her Lorulean counterpart, eyes wide, but her ears were twitching in excitement.

And the room shared that excitement! All of them had forgotten their animosity toward Hilda as the shock of her words sank in. “A Master Sword?” Ardali repeated. “As in, a Lorulean Master Sword?”

“Yes. I think so.” And, believe it or not, Zelda chuckled. “It’s been right in front of us this whole time. Nayru must be ashamed of me for not spotting it earlier.”

“Explain.” Fulgura’s voice was severe. “I don’t know how things are done in Hyrule, but we don’t like keeping people in suspense.”

Zelda was too thrilled to catch the bite in Fulgura's voice. She went to the edge of the table and lay down Ravio’s journal, pointing to the circle of pins Hilda and Link had stuck into Hyrule’s map weeks ago. “These are the locations of the Yiga clan attacks, correct?”

“Yes,” replied Ravio, a quizzical look on his face.

“Well, based on the maps, the area the Yiga attacks surround in Lorule is your ruined temple. Well, look!”

She pulled the edge of the paper map of Hyrule over that of Lorule, lining them up until the Great Hyrule Forest was next to the region of old ruins marked by Yiga attacks. Put alongside one another, Link saw that the Yiga sightings perfectly outlined the border of the Great Hyrule Forest on Lorule’s map.

Link sucked in a breath, his eyes darting between the paper maps. How hadn’t he noticed? The Lorule temple’s ruins were much more contained, Hilda had said, and the bulk of the temple was hidden underground. Just how deep did this structure extend? Could this have been where the Yiga got their idea to burrow in the tundra—buried treasure going unnoticed for centuries?

“This area corresponds to our Great Hyrule Forest, where our Master Sword is housed,” Zelda quickly explained. “And the place your Master Sword was interred was where our own Forbidden Temple was. Isn’t it interesting that the Yiga have chosen to patrol this perimeter?” 

She pointed back at the Lorulean ruins. “Their location is too specific to be random. They must be guarding something.”

Durus frowned. “What could they possibly guard in the Forgotten Ruins?”

Now Link was beginning to catch on. “Something they couldn’t take out!”

Canta’s head tilted. “I don’t follow.”

Now things were clicking into place. He and Zelda, intimately acquainted with the properties and powers of the Master Sword, should have figured this out ages ago!  
“Maybe this was lost to your history, but the way the Master Sword chooses who is worthy of wielding it is by killing everyone who isn’t.” A shiver ran down Link’s spine—after his awakening in the Shrine of Resurrection, he had almost wasted his second chance at saving Hyrule, saved only by the wisdom of the Deku Tree. “It nearly killed me. So unless you’re worthy, if the Sword is interred, it’s not going to move.”

Hilda’s hand clapped over her mouth. Fulgura’s face was stone-like, her eyes flicking between the maps of the different worlds. Ravio looked like his heart was about to leap out of his chest.

“You’re sayin’ we had our Master Sword all along?”

“Wait a minute,” said Durus. “What makes you think the Master Sword is in these ruins?”

“Why else were the Yiga so far from their home base?” Zelda was bouncing on the balls of her feet. “They were guarding the weapon that could destroy their deity!”

“That’s thin, reasoning, Zelda.” Hilda looked up at the gathered allies. Link read restlessness in all of them, their muscles tensing and their fingers gripping their armrests. They wanted to move. “But it’s all we’ve got, isn’t it?”

Zelda was beaming, clutching Ravio’s journal to her chest. She turned to look at Link, bright joy filling her face. Her happiness was contagious, and he found himself smiling with her. They had a Master Sword in this world! Ganon could be stopped, and they could go home!

Ravio was giddiest of all. “Well, would ya look at that!” he cheered. “All this time, we had ourselves a Master Sword, and the Yiga—oh, they’re great at sneaking, but of course they couldn’t keep it hidden forever. Not with two princesses like you! It took you only weeks to unravel all their secrets!”

“Please, Ravio, calm down,” said Hilda, carefully measuring the thrill in her smile. “We shouldn’t let our hopes get too high. This is just a theory, after all.”

“Sorry, princess, but they’re already skyward!” He whooped triumphantly, pumping his fist in the air. “We’ll get there, and then as soon as good ol’ Ravio pulls the Master Sword free, Ganon is as good as gone!”

In an instant, the mirth in Hilda vanished, her brow furrowing. “Excuse me. What?”

Ravio seemed equally puzzled, and Link got the impression that, though he’d been in the room for this entire exchange, he had missed a crucial talking point. “Well, it would be me pulling the sword, right? I mean, if the Hero of Hyrule’s a mirror image of me, then it wouldn’t take much guessing to figure out who the Hero of Lorule is.”

Hilda chuckled. “Very funny.”

“I’m bein’ serious.” He glanced around the room, but no one was rushing to his defense. “Why is me bein’ the keeper of the Sword so weird?”

“Because you’ve never held a sword in your life, Ravio. You’re staying here.” She shook her head, turning back to the allies. “Be sure to eat plenty and rest well tonight. We shall leave for the Forgotten Ruins at dawn.”

“Well, wait, Princess,” said Fulgura, leaning forward in her seat. “We built a theory on the fact that similarities exist between our worlds. If we’re so confident in one theory that you’re willing to act on it with mere hours of preparation, why won’t we give the other the time of day?”

Ravio gestured wildly to her. “Thank you!”

“Do you believe Ravio’s the hero?” Ardali asked.

“I believe it’s as big a gamble as we’re taking on the Forgotten Ruins,” she replied. “Frankly, I think this one’s got better chances! So why not bring Ravio with us?”

“She’s got a point,” said Durus. “He can come with us, and if he can’t draw it, at least we eliminated one possibility out of the rest of Lorule.”

Hilda scoffed. “You want me to bring my best advisor into what might be a bloody raid?”

“We can set up an outpost where he’ll wait until the ruins are clear!”

Zelda quietly drew up to Hilda’s side. “Princess, I don’t see much harm in letting Ravio come with us. He may be able to help me research the ruins—”

“I never said _you_ were going, Princess.” Hilda turned back to Ravio. “The answer is no. We don’t know if the Master Sword will be there, anyway, and I’m not risking bringing my best inventor into a battle for nothing!”

“But we could have everything to gain from it!” he pleaded.

“What, that you’re the wielder of the Sword? That is ridiculous! Forgive me, Ravio, but you are an academic, not a fighter. And our gods are not so cruel to us as to hinge Lorule’s hopes on you.”

Silence crashed into the room. Link could almost hear the breaking of Ravio’s heart as Hilda crushed it like a bug. Words threatened to leap off Link’s tongue— _that was cruel, was that necessary in front of all these people, why not try_ —but he didn’t dare speak. No one did but Ravio, in the quietest and meekest voice Link had heard since they met.

“Is that what you think of me?”

Even Hilda sensed a change in the wind now. Her voice was softer and kinder as she said, “Link was showing signs of excellent swordsmanship since he was a toddler. He told me so. You spent your days inventing and puzzling and you’ve made Lorule better for it, but you are not the wielder of Lorule’s Master Sword.”

Hilda took a deep breath and turned back to the others. “Prepare for our early departure tomorrow. Our intellectuals will remain at Lorule Castle to avoid the conflict. This meeting is adjourned.”

She marched out of the council room. The others followed suit, totally silent as they slunk away. Soon, only Link and Zelda remained with him, and Link, who knew a thing or two about pressure and letting others down, reached out to Ravio’s shoulder. “Ravio—”

“Please.” He shrugged him off and turned to him. Ravio’s eyes were empty of their usual excited gleam. He looked hollow without it, like he was nothing but a shadow.   
“Just go.”

Zelda grasped Link’s arm and tugged him out of the room.


	14. Behind Closed Doors

“Are you okay?”

Link and Zelda were hidden away in Zelda’s room, door shut tight and curtains drawn over the window. He was not posted up faithfully by the entrance, as a good knight should be, but instead they were perched on her bed, sitting cross-legged beside each other like children conspiring after their parents went to sleep. The Master Sword was not even within reach; she bade him set it down by their boots, and after the furor the Sword had generated, Link, for the first time, was more than happy to set it aside.

Zelda’s face was soft and sympathetic as she continued, “I know delegation isn’t your area. It doesn’t always get so chaotic.”

“The chaos was fine.” Link was wringing his hands, eyes flicking all around the room, as though looking for a threat—or an eavesdropper. “Good eye on the Yiga lead, by the way. I don’t think anyone said so earlier.”

A smile flitted across her face, but it didn’t stay. “We should have spotted that much earlier, really. How often were we poring over that map?”

“Too long.”

Silence fell between them again. Her eyes were locked on him, her ears twitching just a little. Why couldn’t she stop looking at him like that, like he was a puzzle in her research she needed to crack?

“Link,” she said quietly, “what’s wrong?”

He felt his old desire for silence rise up, strangling his words in his throat. Fear of failing the crown and people of Hyrule had pervaded his fight against Ganon a hundred years ago, when he forced himself under a blanket of silence in a show of strength against the immense pressure. Only after he climbed out of the Shrine of Resurrection, anonymous in an unrecognizable Hyrule, did his fear loosen its grip.

“Everything Hilda said to Ravio was cruel.” He had to force every word out, like they clung to his tongue with hooks. “But it was everything I was afraid of hearing before the Calamity struck. I wanted to be enough. I threw myself into training to be the hero Hyrule deserved, in case the Sword chose me on a fluke. Everything Hilda said about Ravio not being the hero, and about being Lorule’s last choice, just rang really true for me.”

Zelda leaned forward, folding her knees under her. “You _were_ the hero we deserved. You died for our kingdom!”

“If I hadn’t been sloppy, I could have survived, and you wouldn’t have had to fight Ganon alone for a century.” He locked eyes with her again. Zelda was intelligent beyond compare, but no one was able to separate affection from truth, so it fell to him to pull off her rose-colored glasses. “I’ve failed, Zelda, and I’ve failed _you_ , but you nor anyone else wanted to admit it. Hilda was the first person who did, but Ravio didn’t get a chance to succeed.”

“You did not fail me.” Her hand fell upon his, stilling his hands’ jittery wringing. When he looked up, her face was firmer, and her hand squeezed his in a show of solidarity. “You gave your life and more for me. You did all you could.”

“I could have done more.”

“And you did. You awoke in the Shrine of Resurrection and saved me.” Her other hand cupped his cheek, her fingers gentle against his roughened skin. “If you had not done all you could, I would still be in Ganon’s clutches. I do not call that a failure. Ravio may not be the hero of Lorule, but don’t let him make you uncertain about your own deeds.”

He unlaced his hands and grasped Zelda’s. Together they sat, still conspiring with their heads bowed, but something more magnetic lay between them this time. Something deeper and stronger, something understood only by people touched by divine provenance. She had saved his life, and he had saved her from captivity in return. And where would he be if he had not been able to save her? He would have died at Ganon’s hands—or, worse, he would have walked away from Zelda, enjoyed the sweet anonymity, and let her suffer. And he would have died in shame.

“Zelda.” Their heads lifted again. “I think Ravio’s the hero.”

She pulled away from him then, eyes widening. “You do?”

“Things are different between Hyrule and Lorule, but some things remain the same," he pointed out. "I know Ravio, and I know that he is as dedicated to Princess Hilda and Lorule as I am to you. No divine force would do that by accident.”

She fell silent for a long moment. Ravio did make an unlikely hero—a royal advisor valued for his intelligence and ingenuity, not for his prowess in battle—but Hyrule’s history was filled with unlikely heroes, too. Link had heard tales of ranchers, students, and even children being laden with the hero’s burden. When looking at history, he supposed he was an obvious choice, having mastered swordsmanship so young. 

So an advisor already close to Lorule’s throne didn’t seem so far out of reach, either.

Finally, Zelda said, “I did disagree when Hilda barred Ravio and I from coming with you. Even if he’s not the hero, it would help to have a scientist’s eye on things. And it would help to understand why, if Lorule’s Master Sword is intact, Hilda hasn’t been able to access her sealing power.”

She plopped her chin into her hand. “It may not be the legendary blade in the Forgotten Ruins after all, but it’s something so important to the Yiga that they set up a patrol around the area. I would like very much to find out what that is.”

“The Yiga are precisely why you and Ravio are staying here.” He offered her a sympathetic smile. “I know you can handle yourself—I heard the stories from Durus.”  
Zelda blushed. He continued, “But the Yiga are a ruthless force. Defending a campsite is different than marching into battle.”

“I understand, which is why I’m not going to campaign Hilda to allow us to go.” She reached out and squeezed his hand again. “Be safe, Link. We know so little of what you’re walking into.”

“I promise everything will be fine.”

 

&

 

“Thank you for coming.”

Ravio was back in the council room, though it was much, much later at night. The rest of Lorule Castle was asleep, with Princess Hilda slumbering peacefully above them somewhere on the second floor. He had given strict orders to the guards to be quiet as he sent them to fetch his quarry, and took up his silent vigil in the dark council room. Fulgura and Canta were already here, but they were waiting on one more.

The last arrival, Ardali, was smoothing down his feathers as he sat beside Fulgura. “What is the meaning of this?” he hissed. “What issue demands our attention at this hour—and before such an important day!”

“I’m curious, too, Ravio,” Canta admitted, rubbing her eyes. “Why have you roused us?”

“Wait a moment.” Fulgura was alert and ready, and was the only attendee who had the wherewithal to bring her blade. “We should wait for Durus to get here.”

“Lord Durus isn’t coming.” Ravio tilted his chin up. “I thought he would slow us down.”

Ardali’s head cocked to the side. “Are we going somewhere?”

“With your help, yes.” Ravio rounded the table slowly, measuring his paces like a careful hunter. “Princess Hilda is wise, but I think she is going about approaching the Master Sword all the wrong way.”

He drew up to Ardali’s chair. Ardali leaned back as far as the chair would let him, refusing to look away. His posture was tense, and his eyes were cold—did he think Ravio was dangerous? Dangerous enough never to turn away from him?

He couldn’t help but feel a little flattered.

“You want to draw the Sword,” said Ardali in a shocked whisper. “You think you’re the hero.”

“I think we have more reason to believe I’m the hero than not, considering our Hylian hero’s appearance. And I would rather exhaust all possibilities than bank on one or two and hope for the best, you know?”

“But what do you need our help for?” Canta asked, trepidation in her voice.

Ravio drew up to his full height. “I want to go to the Forgotten Ruins tonight.”

It was a big ask, and Ravio knew it, but he hadn’t expected testy silence to befall the people gathered here. He had expected more chaos than this. He had expected to spark an argument among the others, but perhaps this endeavor would be easier than he thought.

Fulgura’s head tilted. “And you want our protection. You want us to lay our lives on the line for your hypothesis.”

He heaved a sigh. “The princess was right about one thing: I’m no soldier. Not right now, but if I can draw that sword, all of you rest assured that I will undertake the strictest training to be a hero worthy of honoring and defending Lorule.”

Canta shook her head. “We don’t know the number of Yiga there. Three of us against who knows how many?”

“My aim is not to flush the Yiga out of the area,” he replied, “but to infiltrate them. Princess Hilda is brash, and does not understand when a bit of espionage can save lives and limbs. If the three of you can get me to the Master Sword without alerting our enemies to our presence, we will have accomplished what Hilda would rather hurl violence at.”

He glanced at Fulgura, whose stony expression hadn’t changed at all since he began his plea. “What are you thinking, Lady Fulgura?”

She met his eyes. “I’m thinking that I have never heard you speak of Princess Hilda like this, Ravio.”

And Ravio had never heard Hilda speak of him as she did earlier that day, but who was keeping track? “Time and circumstances have forced me to be frank. If we work swiftly and intelligently, we can find the sword without sentencing Lorule to death.”

“But if we don’t know what we’re walking into,” Canta replied, shrinking in her chair, “wouldn’t it be better to have backup? To outnumber instead of being outnumbered?”

“Allow me to be frank with you, Canta.” He walked towards her, holding her gaze the whole time. “We all want this operation to be over with, don’t we? We want to be sure Lorule will be safe. With the Master Sword in our custody, we will have all we need—and since the Forbidden Ruins are so close by, we can have it before the next dawn. Once the Master Sword is safely stored in Lorule Castle, you all will be free to go home.”

Ardali sucked in a gasp. “You think Hilda will release us from our duty?”

“I’ll ensure it,” Ravio said. “I understand that you all dearly miss your homes. Keeping you imprisoned here is not the way to protect Lorule.”

Fulgura rose from her chair, hand on her blade. “Icing on the cake, as far as I’m concerned. I was ready to help you as soon as you called this meeting.”

He gasped. He already had an ally, and all he had to do was ask? “Really?”

“I think you’re the hero, Ravio.” She flashed him a smile. “But I wanted to hear what your plan was before we stuck our necks out.”

“Don’t be so hasty,” said Ardali. “We’ll be directly contradicting Hilda’s orders. We’ll be committing treason.”

“When we return with the Master Sword, do you think Hilda will have a mind for punishing you?” He shook his head, a wry smile on his face. “We’ll hand her the salvation of Lorule tomorrow morning. She’ll shower you in honors, not levy you with punishment!”

The ambassadors exchanged glances. Ravio wondered if they bought his fib—Hilda was a stubborn woman, and she would not easily forget the transgression. But if they had the Master Sword in hand upon their return, then she would be much more sympathetic. 

“Fulgura may be certain,” said Canta, lips pursed and eyes narrowed, “And you may be, Ravio, but I do not think Ardali and I share your whole-hearted convictions that we’ll even find the legendary blade there—or that you, or any of us, will be able to draw it. What if we cannot?”

“Weren’t we agreed that I was a very strong possibility?” Ravio gestured to them. “I am certain I can draw the Master Sword. And if I cannot, I will assume full responsibility for this mission. Rest assured, Princess Canta, that no loss of good standing and no punishment will befall any of you. The people you lead will be safe. Now, who’s with me?”

Ravio watched the cogs churn in their heads, glancing at each other and waiting for someone to go first. In the end, the bravest—or the most desperate to go home—was Canta.

Canta stood and said, “I will aid you, Ravio. If you truly believe in your claim to the Master Sword, then I will do everything in my power to get your hands on its hilt.”

Ardali stood, too. “You’ll need someone to scout the landscape. Who better than a Rito?”

Ravio grinned. “I thank you tonight from the bottom of my heart, and I ensure you that the crown will do the same tomorrow.”

So that was it! Ravio had marshaled a squadron together to set out for the Forbidden Ruins. In twelve hours, if they were lucky, they would have the Master Sword and Lorule would be saved! As the ambassadors collected themselves and made plans to meet in a few minutes, Fulgura cleared her throat. “Before we set out, I’d like to make one suggestion.”

“What?”

“We should wake Durus.” Her eyes had a steely glint in them. “He’s the mightiest warrior we could ask for, and just as eager to go home, too. We would be fools not to enlist him, even if it means we go a little slower.”

“Excellent idea.” Ravio frowned then, as another thought came to him. “What about Link and Zelda? Should we invite them?”

“No.” Ardali shook his head. “Even if they’re eager to go home, we should keep a Master Sword at Lorule Castle, should something terrible happen in the hours we’re gone. We shouldn’t take any more chances than we already are.”

“I agree.” As Ravio instructed them to arm themselves quietly and meet him at the stables, though, a bead of dissent sat in his heart. The Master Sword had to be in the Forgotten Ruins, right? And all they had to do was slip through the Yiga ranks and get Ravio to where the Sword was interred. Once he pulled it free from the earth, they could carve their way out and be back at the castle in time for breakfast. 

They’d save Lorule in a snap. Ravio wanted to be sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading so far!!! Please, tell me what you think, scream about how things are going! I'd love to hear from you!


	15. The Forgotten Ruins

“You said we would be back _before_ dawn.”

Ravio glanced at the brightening horizon and frowned. “Well, that was before ya insisted on bringin’ Durus.”

Fulgura huffed and marched back to Canta, Ardali, and Durus, all awaiting Ravio’s orders. They were shielded behind a crumbled wall of what might have been an antechamber once, but only the goddesses knew now. A roof here, a column there. The Forbidden Ruins were nothing like the opulent structure that once stood here, reduced by time into hunks of stone strewn across the ground. The cold dawn light cast long shadows across the ruined temple, whose columns were broken down and whose entrance was nearly caved in. The patrolling Yiga would climb up the debris in the entrance and squeeze through at every change of the guard. Had they intentionally collapsed the entranceway? Was it a bid to protect what was inside?

Ravio slunk back to his allies, footsteps quiet on the dusty ground, the gears already churning in his mind. “Takin’ the sneaky route is gonna be considerably harder with sunrise. How do we feel about rushin’ in as fast as we can?”

Ardali shook his head. “It’s too risky. We can’t just charge in.”

“Not all at once, maybe.” Durus glanced at Fulgura. “But if Ardali flew some of us to different points, and we infiltrated separately? Less chance of being seen.”

“I don’t like leaving us on our own.” Fulgura snapped her fingers suddenly. “But if instead of dropping in on them, what if our Rito friend extracted them?”

Canta frowned. “Wouldn’t they notice a Rito sweeping their friends away?”

“Instead of saddling Ardali with a pack mule’s duties, why don’t we change tactics?” Ravio went to his knapsack, his arsenal of inventions, and opened it up. It was lighter than usual—he had emptied out everything unessential to their task—but didn’t find himself comforted by the lesser weight. “We gotta get creative. Lucky us, I brought my goodies.”

Ravio pulled out four scepters, creations from his laboratory, and handed three of them over to the others, keeping the Tornado Rod for himself. “I’m feeling left out here,” said Durus, who remained empty-handed.

“Don’t worry, my lord. I did not forget you.” He reached back into the bag and pulled out a massive hammer. “It looks simple, yes, but the wood has been both chemically and magically strengthened. No amount of force can damage this thing.”

Durus took the Hammer and gave it an experimental swing. He grinned. “I like it.”

“Thought you might.” Ravio tested the weight of the Tornado Rod in his hands. “Okay. Hear me out.”

 

&

 

Ravio glanced up at the sky, where he could see Ardali’s silhouetted form flying over the Ruins, the Ice Rod strapped to his back. As he circled around the perimeter of the Ruins, Ravio hurried further along the edge until he was at the most eastern point of the Ruins. The Yiga were patrolling the entrance, which was to the south. In fact, they had struck at the changing of the guard: one Yiga was helping the other through the caved-in doorway.

Ravio waved the Tornado Rod above his head, his shadow stretching across the dusty ground. “Hey!”

The heads of the purple-clad Yiga snapped towards him. One breathless moment as they tried to comprehend the strange sight before them—a confident trespasser with a one-of-a-kind doohickey—and then they pulled out their daggers and rushed towards him.

Ravio tried not to tremble as they got closer and closer, their masks doing very little to contain their exuding malice. And he had to admit that when he lifted the Tornado Rod straight up and he was shooting skyward, he had cut it a little close: one of the Yiga’s blades whistled through the air he was occupying a second ago.

“Now!”

A wall of earth erupted from the ground and met Ravio on his gentle descent. The Yiga, shocked into stillness, stared up at the ten-foot wall that had appeared from nowhere. Ravio glanced at Canta, who was hiding behind the nearby remains of a platform, Sand Rod in hand.

And then he glanced at the abandoned temple entrance, where Durus swung the Hammer in a fine arc and, in one stroke, demolished the rubble that stalled their passage.

The resulting booms and crashes rattled throughout the Ruins, drawing the attention of the two Yiga below Ravio. Durus ducked out of the way as Fulgura followed up with the Fire Rod, sending a towering column of flame through the dust-choked entrance. Screams from the Yiga concealed within poured through the door.

“Go!” yelled Canta. Without another word, Ravio ran along the earthen wall until he was met by the temple façade’s outer edge. He stuck the Tornado Rod in the air again and lifted off right as the wall sank into the ground, the spell having worn off finally. The momentum from his sprinting carried him up and over the edge of the temple roof, where he landed safely on two feet.

He looked back and watched another wall rise from the ground, this time surrounding the two Yiga guards. Canta expertly held one off with the Sand Rod as she grasped the arm of the other. He sank to his knees at her touch, a victim of her life-sucking magic.

Ardali, who had been circling the entire time, touched down beside Ravio. “Part of the ceiling caved in,” he said, leading him across the temple roof until they reached a massive gap in the stone. They peeked through and found a dozen Yiga already locked in battle, fighting against Goron might and Gerudo tenacity. But their short blades, all they had at the ready, were hardly making contact with skin before another tower of flame forced them back.

“Ha!” said Ravio. “Do they think those daggers have anything on us?”

Again, all the Yiga looked up at Ravio and Ardali as one. Ardali grasped the scruff of Ravio’s tunic and yanked him back, just as six arrows from three separate archers whistled through the gap. 

“Careful! Don’t be so wordy next time.”

“I got the job done, didn’t I?”

Ardali scowled and waved the Ice Rod at the gap. A massive block of ice appeared out of thin air and dropped through the hole, crashing into the Yiga that had gathered below.

“Get in there,” ordered Ravio, “and keep doing that!”

Ardali backed up and then took flight, soaring upward and then diving expertly inside. Ravio scurried back to the edge and peered below.

It was madness in the temple. The sea of Yiga purple was being carved apart with flame, ice, and earth. Fulgura’s blade gleamed in the firelight as she swung it and the Fire Rod seamlessly at the same time, like they had always been meant to be used as a pair. Ardali slung ice chunks down upon them, narrowly missing Durus as he cleaved a path through the temple with the Hammer. Earthen walls were rising and falling around Canta, trapping her prey and then incapacitating them with a touch. All four of them looked like they were born to this task, like Ravio had created these rods to fit precisely in each of their hands.

As the ambassadors fought on, Ravio did his best to study the inside of the temple. He couldn’t make much out, among the fighting and the fury, though he did catch a white-haired Yiga in the mass of purple. She danced around the fighting, disappearing in and out, until the white disappeared all together.

Didn’t Link say something about a white-haired Yiga?

He whipped out the Tornado Rod, lifted it high, and then shot into the air. With a little ungraceful kicking and swinging, he managed to guide himself through the gap and into the temple below, and even further still until he was hugging the northern wall.

As he drifted to the ground, a dusty wall rose up and spanned the length of the temple, blocking off most of the fighting. Fulgura ran along it towards Ravio, meeting him as his feet found the ground.

“What are you doing?” she hissed. “You need to stay out of the fighting!”

“I saw the leader of the Yiga!” he explained. “The white-haired one that nearly killed Link.”

“Her?” Fulgura looked back, her foot tapping impatiently as she thought. “I think I saw where she went. Stay behind me—let’s go!”

Fulgura led him across the battlefield, slashing the Fire Rod as though she were born to it. She led him around a tall, crumbling statue, behind which stone stairs were hidden that led underground. As they descended, Ravio had a passing thought to the others they were leaving—five against an army was already a bum deal, especially when one was staying out of the conflict—but if this Yiga leader could bring them to the Master Sword, the fight would be over in a snap.

The stairs led to a rocky corridor that wound downward. It seemed like the corridor was carved out by an indecisive snake, winding this way and that and often doubling back on itself until it opened into a cave, small and round, big enough only for a handful of people to occupy. The ceiling was so low that it brushed the top of Fulgura’s head. In the center of the cave was a stone pedestal, and interred in that pedestal was a sword with a golden hilt and an amethyst embedded in the blade, exactly how their histories described it.

Ravio heard a footstep behind him.

He spun around and turned the Tornado Rod on the white-haired Yiga who had appeared right behind them, a haze of smoke lingering in the air. The gust of wind knocked her off her feet and sent her back in the tunnel.

“Wait!” Fulgura’s arm shot out in front of Ravio. “I’ll take care of her. Quickly, draw the Sword!”

Without another word, Fulgura bolted back into the tunnel and Ravio ran in the opposite direction, heading for the pedestal. As he drew up to the blade with a heavenly gleam, though, he was unsettled by the thick silence that had descended the room. Shouldn’t blades be clashing? Shouldn’t he hear the whoosh of the Fire Rod’s towering pillars of flame?

But the Master Sword drew him like a fish on a hook, and worries for the heavy silence disappeared. The Sword seemed to call out to him, the voice deep and soothing. _Draw me. You can draw me, Ravio, and protect Hilda._

He reached out for the Master Sword’s golden handle, gripped it tightly with both hands, and tugged on it. And then, in the darkness of the fire-lit cave, three things happened at once.

A heavenly force gripped his heart and glued his hands to the Sword.

Fulgura whispered, “It's over.”

And from behind, Link’s voice yelled, “Wait!”


	16. Earlier That Morning

Dawn had risen and brought chaos with it. Ravio and the ambassadors were gone, as well as their equipment and the horses. Princess Hilda was doing her best to organize and rally her forces, but she couldn’t disguise from Link how terrible a blow this was. She was cracking under pressure, losing the composure necessary for a ruler to lead.

“What are you waiting around for?” she barked at the laboratory aides. Ravio’s assistants had already been squeezed for information, but none of them knew what happened to him, only that some inventions had disappeared in the night. “Double-check your inventory and ensure nothing else was taken!”

“Y-Yes, Your Grace.” The aides quickly got to work, cataloging the rest of Ravio’s cluttered lab. Zelda was looking at the Lens of Truth and the dagger with the invisible blade, tossed aside on his main workspace. She was thinking hard, and he could tell by the twitch of her ears, but Link had done his thinking and found a solution he was sure of. Link thought about running his suggestion past Zelda first, but now was not to the time to curate his words with the utmost care; now was the time to be frank and quick.

“Princess, we all know where Ravio and the others have gone.”

She fixed him with her red glare. “He wouldn’t have gone to the Forgotten Ruins. And our allies would not have taken him there!”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re loyal to me, not him! And he is loyal to me, too!”

“After how you spoke last night?” Zelda straightened up, matching the ferocity of Hilda’s glare with one of her own. “You must forgive me for commenting on your leadership, Princess, but I am surprised they have been loyal to you all this time.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Hilda drew up to her full height. “I have ruled and protected Lorule with everything I have. I command my citizens’ loyalty and undying respect!”

“You command it because you order it.” Zelda’s hand clenched into a fist at her side. The words flowed so smoothly from her that Link had the very clear impression that she had wanted to say these things for a while.

“You give orders without consulting your allies, who are your _equals _, not your citizens. You do not negotiate or compromise; you plow on ahead without considering the consequences on yourself or others. And last night, you bullied Ravio for proposing a theory that wasn’t so outlandish as you said!”__

__“I was realistic!” she shot back. “Ravio is a scholar, not a fighter!”_ _

__“Maybe so, but your lashing out at him last night wasn’t an act of patriotism,” Zelda said coldly. “I cannot say what it was, but I know it was childish. Ravio is a brilliant man, Hilda, but if he really did go to the Ruins, he is acting and thinking childishly, too, which means he is deeply hurt.”_ _

__The fire had left Hilda’s face. “I cannot control how he feels or acts. This is not my fault.”_ _

__“It’s not. But the fact remains that, after we all learned sensitive information, Ravio acted upon it foolishly.”_ _

__“Not because of me!”_ _

__“If I may speak freely, Your Grace,” said Link. Lorule prided itself on frankness and utility, but that frankness had led to pain and, well, the situation they were trapped in. “Ravio does not know military discipline or a chain of command. When I was in training, I had to fend off considerable doubt, too, and I will admit I was tempted to do something like this when that happened.”_ _

__Hilda met him with a puzzled frown. “You would do this if people were realistic with you?”_ _

__“No. If people had challenged my skill.” He gestured to Zelda. “When Zelda expressed displeasure at my guarding her, I knew I would have to remind her at the first opportunity that I was capable and devoted to my duty. The opportunity came quickly, but I never lowered my standard. Ravio is right, Princess, in that he and I are not so different after all—and we learned yesterday that there was an opportunity for him to prove his worth to you. Of course _he_ would take it, because _I_ already did.”_ _

__Link’s heart was pounding. He had rarely spoken so directly to anyone higher-ranking than him. Even with Zelda, he was direct, but gentle. He had rarely spoken to King Rhoam at all!_ _

__But Hilda didn’t seem insulted. Hilda had gone silent, paling by the second. Her voice quivered when she spoke again, but she barely spoke over a whisper. “Who does he think he is? Does he believe—he must know he doesn’t need to prove himself!”_ _

__“You called his judgement into question last night.” The harsh edge hadn’t disappeared from Zelda’s voice. “And it is plain that you are the person he cares for the most. Few people, even heroes, can take that in stride.”_ _

__She reached out for one of the stools by Ravio’s workbench and sat down. Tears were forming in her eyes, though Link found little will to sympathize with her. Had she been blind to the effect of her words the whole time?_ _

__“He knows. I thought he knew—but I never knew he would take it like that. And he shouldn’t have!”_ _

__“The fact remains that he did.” As Link walked toward her, she turned away, though he could see her reflection in the Mirror Shield, Ravio’s wonder, left upon the workbench. Her face was distraught, and the tears were flowing freely. “He should not have done this, but we have no time to debate what he should or should not have done. You have charged ahead fearlessly every other moment, Hilda, and now we need to do that again. If Ravio reaches the Sword, and his theory is incorrect—”_ _

__“Then it will kill him.” She buried her face in her hands. “But how can we reach him in time? They could already be there—he could already be dead!”_ _

__“Then we better get there quickly.” Zelda picked up the bladeless dagger and the Lens of Truth. “If we can get back to Hyrule, we can use the Sheikah Slate to teleport to the Great Hyrule Forest.”_ _

__“Why there?”_ _

__“Because that’s where Lorule’s Forbidden Ruins is, remember?” Zelda held up the dagger. “If we can find a tear in the Forest, we can make it to the Ruins in minutes instead of hours!”_ _

__Hilda whirled around, wiping roughly at her face. “What are we waiting for?” she asked, her voice gruff. “Link, fetch your sword and shield. Princess, the Sheikah Slate. We will reconvene in the royal library in ten minutes!”_ _

__They rushed off to prepare in a whirlwind. Zelda had found a way to get them to the Ruins and save Ravio’s life—and if the Master Sword was there, they would have saved Lorule, too! That’ll be another world that Zelda saved nearly single-handed, Link realized. Princess Zelda, always protecting and saving worlds. What an extraordinary woman she was._ _

__Ten minutes later, they found themselves back in the library. Link had his Master Sword and Hylian Shield, and Princess Hilda had her Mirror Shield strapped to her back and her rapier at her side. Hanging on Zelda’s belt was the Sheikah Slate—and on her back was a bow and arrow._ _

__“Zelda,” said Link as she searched the room with the Lens of Truth. She found the rift they had climbed through when they first arrived in Lorule, across the room from the fireplace. “Do you plan on fighting?”_ _

__She reached up with Ravio’s knife and struck the rift, carving it open. Light spilled onto the faded red carpet. “We do not know what we are walking into. It’s best if we’re all prepared.”_ _

__More and more light poured out of the midair slice as Zelda rent it more and more. Soon the rift was big enough for them to pass through, allowing warm air to billow into the library._ _

__Zelda pocketed the Lens of Truth and the rift-opening blade, shooting him a smile. “I’ve missed Hyrule.”_ _

__“So have I, Princess.”_ _

__They climbed through the tear together. The cold bite of the space between their worlds didn’t sting quite as much as Link’s first journey through it, but neither he nor Zelda had learned how to stick the landing. They arrived in a panting heap in the ruins of the Temple of Time, through whose windows the setting sun shone. Hilda came through after them and managed to remain on her feet, gazing at the ruins in wonder. “Is all of Hyrule like this?”_ _

__“No,” Link said as he and Zelda climbed to their feet. “But we’re in the oldest part of it.”_ _

__Hilda went to the entrance of the temple and Link and Zelda followed shortly after, where they found her gazing at the Great Plateau from their peculiar vantage point. “This is incredible. At a better time, I would love to see the rest of Hyrule.”_ _

__“At a better time.” Zelda pulled out the Sheikah Slate, opened the map, and navigated the crosshairs to the Keo Rugg Shrine, tucked snugly against the roots of the Deku Tree. “Pack in close, everyone. We’re headed to the Great Hyrule Forest!”_ _

__Link and Hilda wound their arms into Zelda’s, and then they were swept away into a sea of bright blue and carried across Hyrule. When they arrived in the Great Hyrule Forest, Hilda nearly tripped in her eagerness to explore, not realizing that they had landed on a raised platform. Link went to help her to her feet, but her eyes were on the shrine, wide and eager._ _

__“What is that?” she asked. “I’ve never seen something like that before!”_ _

__“It’s a gift from the Sheikah,” Zelda explained. “They left us many relics. Without them, we could not have defeated our Ganon.”_ _

__Together they hurried through the grass to the front of the Deku Tree, pulling a stunned Hilda along in their wake. The little Koroks scattered at the sight of the intruders, and Link would have gladly introduced Zelda and Hilda to ease their fear, but they didn’t notice the creatures at all, and Link recalled how special it was to see a Korok._ _

__But the princesses did notice the Deku Tree, standing tall and serene. Hilda let out a sharp, surprised cry as the massive mouth moved and the eyes blinked open._ _

__“Link? Ah, and Princess Zelda. You’ve brought a friend.”_ _

__“We have,” said Zelda, pulling out the Lens of Truth again. “But we don’t have time to talk. Forgive us, Great Deku Tree. But we must save another world.”_ _

__The tree chuckled. “I have only held you back once, Princess. I won’t do it again.”_ _

__Zelda combed the clearing for the tear while Hilda gazed at the Deku Tree, marveling at his majesty. “It’s an honor to meet you,” she said, bowing her head to him. “I am Princess Hilda of Lorule, another world that mirrors your own. We used to have a Deku Tree, but it has been lost to time.”_ _

__“Do you know anything about him?”_ _

__“Very little.”_ _

__“Then know that he did not go quietly.” He gave her a kind smile. “There is little that can move us from the earth, and while we are rather static, we have more power than others would think.”_ _

__“A-ha!” Zelda called from across the clearing. She had found the rift right at the mouth of the clearing and was slicing it open. More inky black mist poured from this tear in time and space, sending the nearby Koroks running to the shelter of their elder. “Quickly!”_ _

__Link turned on his heel and raced for the rift, Hilda close behind. “If you don’t mind, Princesses,” he said, drawing the Master Sword as he stood before the rift, “I think I should go first.”_ _

__Zelda nodded. “We’ll be right behind you.”_ _

__He looked behind him, nodded in thanks to the Deku Tree, and then hurtled through the rift and back into Lorule._ _

__The chilling journey didn’t bite quite as much this third time. He and Zelda were regular travelers of this strange space between their kingdoms, haven’t they? Maybe they would have time to ruminate on it when Ravio and their friends were safely back at Lorule Castle._ _

__This time, as Link climbed out of the rift and into a dark cave, Link made sure to land on his feet._ _

__Paya, leader of the Yiga, was standing alongside Fulgura in a tunnel, watching Ravio with vulture-like interest. Ravio’s back was to all of them, his hands clamped on a peculiar-looking Master Sword. Link charged forward, pushing through the women._ _

__“Wait!”_ _

__Fulgura and Paya cried out in surprise, but Ravio remained focused on the Sword. “I gotta draw it, Link!”_ _

__Link drew up to his side and grasped Ravio by the arm, shaking him to try and break him from the Sword’s power. Ravio’s face was screwed up in pain, sweat beading his forehead. “Maybe it felt like it moved, but you should let go—”_ _

__“I can’t!”_ _

__“I don’t care if you think you have to do this, Ravio! It’ll kill you!”_ _

__“No, I really can’t!”_ _

__His iron grip on the golden hilt was tugging on the Master Sword, and—yes, slowly but surely, the blade was coming free! Inch by inch, Ravio was freeing the Sword!_ _

__Link couldn’t help it. He watched, stunned, as Ravio pulled the Master Sword free and held it to the firelight in the cave. He was panting, exhausted by the effort, but Link knew the vitality would return to his face soon. He knew the Master Sword would give it back._ _

__But the longer he waited, the weaker Ravio got. His face grew hollow and drawn out, and the arm triumphantly holding the weapon in the air quivered and shook until he had to lower it. The Sword wasn’t satisfied, and continued to draw on him! Any longer, and nothing would be left!_ _

__Ravio’s knees buckled, and Link lurched forward and caught him before he hit the ground. “Let it go,” he grunted into his ear. “Just let the Master Sword go.”_ _

__“He can’t.” Fulgura sidled up to them, staring down her nose at the pair. “The Sword demands the full servitude of the wielder.”_ _

__Link looked down at Ravio’s hand. His Master Sword’s bright white glow had disappeared, replaced with a hot pink blaze. That hot pink was oozing out of the blade and onto Ravio’s hand, sealing it in his grip like a beetle in amber._ _

__“Ravio!” In a rush of violet, a newly-arrived Princess Hilda pushed past Link, kneeling by Ravio’s side and pulling him into her arms. “Everything’s going to be okay. I swear.”_ _

__“It won’t.” Paya grinned. “Say goodbye to your crown, Princess.”_ _

__“Please, Sheik,” Fulgura snapped, turning to the leader of the Yiga. “Gloating is most unbecoming.”_ _

__Link shot to his feet, drew his sword and shield, and planted himself between Hilda and Fulgura. Dread calcified in his stomach as he looked upon his friend. “You’re working for the Yiga!”_ _

__“When you only have each other in the barren tundra, you must strike deals to survive.” Fulgura’s face was hard, her hand on her sword. “As long as the Gerudo chieftan serves the Yiga cause, the Gerudo people are not targets of their attacks. And when word came of an effort to destroy Ganon before he rose, I knew my mission was to divert the cause as much as possible. But when Ravio realized that he could draw the Master Sword, I saw the opportunity to escape Yiga servitude. Bring them their greatest wish, and they will free you!”_ _

__“Not without plenty of Yiga carnage,” snarled Paya—no, Sheik, Link reminded himself. “My brothers and sisters are being slain above us! Not to mention the losses in Gerudo!”_ _

__“I brought you the bearer of the Sword, didn’t I?” Fulgura snapped. “I did what you asked. It’s like you always say. Collateral damage.”_ _

__“Very well. If a few lives were lost to return Ganon to us, so be it.” Sheik’s scowl disappeared, transforming into a proud, conniving grin as she looked back down at Ravio. “My people’s sacrifices will be remembered alongside your deeds for generations.”_ _

__“No, they won’t!” shouted Link. “Ganon will raze Lorule to the ground—there won’t be generations there to remember you!”_ _

__Suddenly, Ravio gasped for breath, his body curling in Hilda’s arms. The blazing pink had woven into his skin, tracing up his arm like veins until the threads reached his irises, the color pooling into them. His body kept withering, his skin graying and the light in his eyes fading. The hot pink seal on his hand evaporated, but he did not let go of the Master Sword._ _

__“What’s happening? What’s—Paya?” That was Zelda’s shocked gasp, after she had finally come through the rift. “It _is_ you!”_ _

__Fulgura snarled and struck at Zelda, but Link leaped forward and parried her blade. He caught Sheik’s incoming strike with his shield and batted that away, too, just like Urbosa had taught him._ _

__Zelda’s distraught voice reached his ears. “Fulgura?”_ _

__“She’s a traitor!” Hilda cried out. “She did this to Ravio!”_ _

__Something terrible was happening in her arms. Ravio’s skin and hair had gone a very dark gray, more terrifying than the sight of a corpse. But the light in Ravio’s eyes had returned, a fiery scarlet that consumed the whole eyeball._ _

__He looked at Hilda for a long moment, head tilting and eyes narrowing. She stroked his face with a gentle hand, and whispered, “Ravio?”_ _

__Ravio’s face contorted into a scowl, and he swung the Master Sword at her neck._ _

__Hilda dodged away as Link swung his own Sword around, catching the blades midair. Ravio tried to force his weapon forward, and Link was losing ground, combating a supernatural strength he had not seen in Ravio before. “Let go of him, Hilda!”_ _

__Hilda scurried away, though she did not draw her weapons, staring horrified at Ravio. “What are you doing, Ravio?”_ _

__“He’s not Ravio anymore,” Sheik said with a dark smile. “He is our King of Evil. He is Ganon!”_ _

__Ravio expertly freed his sword from Link’s catch and leaped to his feet as swift as a cat. Sheik and Fulgura were watching with an odd fascination in their eyes as he bore down on Link, Master Sword held high._ _

__“No!” Hilda threw her arms around Ravio, straining to hold him back. “Please, stop!”_ _

__But Ravio wasn’t listening. He effortlessly threw her off and she tumbled to the ground, watching helplessly as he turned and stalked towards her. He lifted the Sword high again—but an arrow whizzed through the air and struck him in the shoulder. He cried out in pain, but the sound that came out was strangled and deep, hardly human._ _

__Link grabbed the princess’ hand, hauled her to her feet, and pulled her toward the corridor, shoving past Fulgura and Sheik. There they found Zelda, who was nocking another arrow into her bow as she turned with them and ran. They sprinted through the winding corridor, which doubled back and looped around yet kept sloping up, until they saw a pinprick of sunlight up ahead and two figures blotting it out._ _

__“Link!” yelled Canta from the top of the stairs, equal parts shocked and relieved. “Where did you come from?”_ _

__Zelda jabbed her thumb behind them. “Ganon’s right behind us!”_ _

__Canta’s eyes widened, but she acted quickly, extending a long, yellow rod and swinging it upward. Behind them, a wall of stone erupted and sealed the passage they had emerged from._ _

__And the scene they had emerged into was horrific. Yiga bodies littered the ground, but the purple-clad soldiers fought on bravely, crushing Durus in on all sides. Ardali flew overhead, raining bomb arrows and great chunks of ice upon the Yiga._ _

__A deep, inhuman roar came from behind the earth wall at the bottom of the stairs, and all the Yiga froze in place, looking at the source of the noise as though Hylia had appeared before them. Link and the others ran away from the sound, just in time for the wall to explode into a shower of dust and dirt and knock them to the ground. Link and Hilda’s swords and shields skidded away as they fell, as did Zelda’s bow. Her bow skidded much further, the blast carrying the lighter wood all the way across the ruins until it hit the back of Durus’ foot._ _

__Durus turned to the source of the sensation. His eyes scanned the temple’s courtyard until they landed on those newly surfaced. “Hilda!” he boomed. “How did you get here?”_ _

__Link hadn’t noticed in their terrified flight in the darkened corridor, but as he turned to scramble for the Master Sword, he saw Hilda was crying. Zelda spoke instead. “Fulgura betrayed us—Ganon is here!”_ _

__They climbed to their feet as Ravio appeared at the top of the stairs, Master Sword in hand and a bright pink flame in his other one fading out. Zelda was right—Ravio wasn’t himself anymore. He had become a charred specter, the embers of his blood-red eyes glowing bright. He had become a shadow more powerful than anything Link had ever faced before._ _

__“Get away, Zelda.” Link turned to the golden princess, who had risen behind him. “Get everyone out of here.”_ _

__She grasped his arm. “I’m not leaving you behind!”_ _

__“Take everyone away until you can come up with a plan.” They had the greatest strategists in Lorule gathered in this temple, and they would need every ounce of wisdom they possessed to subdue the Yiga and free Ravio._ _

__Zelda didn’t move, though, staring at the dark figure over his shoulder. “Then come with us. You know as well as we do how to fight him.”_ _

__“I have to buy you time.” He pulled the Hylian Shield back on, slipping his arm through the well-worn leather straps. “It’s why I was brought here—in case of this exact outcome.”_ _

__He glanced back over his shoulder. Ravio was stalking ever closer. “Please, Zelda, go!”_ _

__She looked one more time at Ravio and then down at the back of her hand, but no Triforce had appeared there. They had no sealing power to save them. “Be safe,” she whispered. “And we’ll be quick.”_ _

__She turned on her heel, and she and Canta ran to Durus as Ardali touched down beside him. Link turned and found Ravio standing not ten paces away from him, his red eyes gleaming against his shadowy figure. Fulgura and Sheik were climbing up the stone stairs behind him. The awe in Sheik’s face was palpable, though a heavy dismay had come over Fulgura’s._ _

__Ravio lifted his Master Sword and pointed it at Link’s. “Your Sword,” he growled. “It’s not of this world.”_ _

__“It’s not.” Link redoubled his grip on the hilt. “It was made to vanquish you. I presume I’m speaking to Ganon.”_ _

__“What’s left of him.” Ravio’s eyes narrowed. “You’re from another world?”_ _

__“Yeah. We defeated Ganon in that one, too.”_ _

__Ravio stretched his arm out to the side. Hot pink light coalesced and then solidified into a shield strapped to his arm. As he held his shield before him, he said, “I spent a millennium imprisoned in that sword evaluating my mistakes. I refuse to make them again.”_ _

__Ravio rushed at him. Link lifted his Master Sword and caught his blade midair, and the duel between him and Ganon began._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so excited to finally bring this chapter to you!!! Everything has been leading up to this confrontation, and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!


	17. Dark Link

The Master Swords clashed in the dusty air of the Forgotten Ruins, the sound of metal hitting metal reverberating off the stone walls. When Link struck, Ganon parried; when Ganon swung, his strikes had enough force to nearly split Link in two.

“Please, King!” yelled Sheik, running towards Ganon. “I can help!”

Ravio waved his arm, and a crack resonated through the air. Sheik doubled over and collapsed to her knees, as if she’d taken a blow to the stomach. “Do not interfere,” Ganon ordered. “He is mine.”

The Yiga watched as though spellbound by Ganon’s performance, enthralled to the point of worship. Sheik crawled away, her voice croaking as she said, “Very well, Your Majesty.”

“If you want to make yourself useful,” he boomed, gesturing to the ambassadors who had regrouped with Hilda and Zelda, “destroy them. All of them.”

“No!” Link yelled as the sea of purple turned as one to Link’s friends. They surged toward them, but Canta waved her Sand Rod, and a rocky wall erupted just in time to protect them.

Link turned back to Ganon. They were safe for now—safer than him. 

 

Behind the rock wall, Hilda, Zelda, and the ambassadors were hiding from the Yiga army, being quite literally boxed into a corner.

“All our preparations,” wailed Hilda, “for nothing! For this!”

“There must still be something we can do!” Durus massaged his weary shoulder. “Our gods are not cruel. They would leave us a way to defeat him!”

“What about the Triforce?” Zelda asked. “Princess, we need you to focus. Lorule needs you to focus.”

Hilda stared at Zelda, took a great, shuddering breath, and wiped her eyes. “What about the Triforce, Zelda?” she hissed, her words sharp and cutting. “We don’t have one!”

“Link told me your sealing power and your Master Sword were connected. If the Sword has been reawakened, perhaps the Triforce has, too!”

“But,” Canta asked, “didn’t you say that your sealing power destroyed Ganon? Will the power destroy Ravio, too?”

Hilda sobbed, “Surely there’s a way to save him!”

Zelda had become many things in her lonely reign over Hyrule. She had become skilled in negotiation, reasonably well-informed on military strategy, and wonderful at compromise. Once upon a time, she may have been able to break bad news, too, but now there was no time for a gentle bedside manner. “If an opportunity presents itself, you must take it, no matter the personal cost. I urge you, Hilda, to reach into yourself and find the power again. You are the Princess of Lorule; this is what saving your kingdom will cost.”

Hilda sputtered, halfway between grief and indignance. Zelda turned to the others and barked orders to them, too. “Ardali, lift off from here and look for Fulgura and the Yiga leader. Canta, you will lower this wall, and then the four of us will do our best to cut down this army. Once we can breathe, I will take Hilda and try to coax the sealing power out of her. Agreed?”

Zelda saw uncertainty on all their faces, but they nodded nonetheless. “For Lorule’s sake,” said Canta.

“For Lorule’s sake.” She nodded, pulled her bow from her back, and strung up an arrow. “Go, Ardali!”

Ardali set off with nary a blustery look. Canta lifted the Sand Rod again and the wall fell, and the Yiga set upon them all at once.

 

Link hit the ground yet again, but barely had time to suck in a dusty breath before Ravio’s sword swung down. He rolled away, and the sword’s tip landed squarely where Link’s heart would have been. He climbed to his feet, sputtering on the filth he’d inhaled, and readied himself for another onslaught.

They had never dueled, but Link was certain Ravio was not privy to this strength before he touched the Master Sword. He was delicate, technical, and gentle with his movements—he was not the angry barbarian swinging to and fro before him. Ganon was a powerful fiend, and he was infusing that power into Ravio’s body. That power manifested outside his body, too—the Yiga and the allies would rush at him, but be repelled at the last second by bright pink pulses of light.

“Why do you keep fighting me?” Link spat when Ravio successfully steered his sword’s point away yet again. “You can flick me away like the others, can’t you?”

“I can.” The inhuman voice coming out of Ravio didn’t match the kind face Link had grown to trust. “But I am eager for a challenge, and so is this vessel.”

“A challenge?” If this Ganon was eager to talk, Link would listen gladly. “What would Ravio want with a challenge?”

“Worthiness. Valor. Proof he could protect Lorule.” Ravio’s lip curled at the last one. “A pity for him. No, that’s not quite pity he’s feeling. Regret—that’s it.”

Link’s ears perked up. Ravio was still in there! And he could see what was happening!

 

Even when crying, Hilda was an adept fighter. She had lost her shield but had hardly a scratch as she dispatched Yiga after Yiga with a dispassionate expertise. With Durus cleaving clean through the ranks and Canta’s destructive magic, Zelda watched as the Yiga army fell more quickly than she had anticipated, cut down like wheat.  
When the number of Yiga became more manageable, Zelda spirited Hilda away to prepare her for her royal duty: to kill Ravio.

When they reached a hidden corner, Zelda grasped her by the shoulders and said, “You are the only one that can save Lorule. You’re the only one with the sealing power!”

“What about you?” she snapped. “You’re a princess, too! You should have the power!”

Zelda already knew the answer, but she checked the back of her hand just in case. Sure enough, no heavenly emblem had reappeared. “Mine isn’t coming back. It’s not my Ganon, so I don’t have my power.”

Hilda opened her mouth, but a warm light nearby drew their attention. Hilda’s trembling hand had begun to glow, and she lifted it to reveal the Triforce and its heavenly glow, ready and willing to fulfill its purpose.

The sight of it brought on a fresh round of tears from Hilda. “I can’t kill him,” she whispered. “I can’t do it. No one has ever loved me or will ever love me like he has.”  
“You must.” Zelda’s grip tightened on Hilda’s shoulders. “Hundreds, thousands will die if you don’t! Ravio would want you to do it—your Ravio, the old Ravio, because that—”

She pointed to the duel, where Ravio had just thrown Link to the ground. “That’s not Ravio anymore.”

 

One of Ardali’s bomb arrows hit the side of the temple wall, the blast rocking the ground beneath Link’s feet. As everyone dove for cover, Link hurled himself at Ganon, pinning him to the ground and thrusting the edge of his sword at his neck. He was met by Ganon’s blade, catching at the hilts. 

“Ravio, I know you can hear me! Fight this thing—burn Ganon out of you!”

For a minute, Link could see fear in those scarlet eyes, but then he blinked, and the creature inhabiting Ravio’s body growled and shoved Link off him.

“You cannot burn me out!” he thundered. “I have remained tied to the Master Sword since time immemorial. This vessel’s destiny was always to bow to me!”

Link landed hard and awkward on the ground. His back was arched over a rock or a broad cobblestone, or so he thought until he rolled over and found Hilda’s Mirror Shield. As he scrambled away and climbed to his feet yet again, he replied, “My destiny was to defeat you. If we’re putting stock in destiny, I would take heed of that if I were you.”

“You’re putting stock in the thing that has held you prisoner?” He swung again. Link dodged. “The thing you have surrendered your life to?”

Link struck. Ravio parried. Link said, “Fulfilling my destiny as Hyrule’s hero has been my greatest honor!”

“At what cost?” Ravio slammed his shield into Link’s, knocking the hero back a few paces. “It’s cost you your family, and the chance to build another! It cost you the woman you would build it with!”

“How do you know that?”

Ravio’s Sword slashed low, cutting across Link’s leg and forcing him to retreat a few paces. As he regrouped, he saw Canta out of the corner of his eye, desperately trying to skirt around Durus. The Goron was dueling with Sheik, who was putting up an impressive fight against him—and distracting him from Fulgura, who was coming for Canta from behind.

Without a second thought, Link pulled the Hylian Shield off his arm and hurled it at Fulgura. The steel edge hit her in the leg, forcing her to her knee. Canta turned at the sound of the Gerudo’s cry, and then back at Link.

“Take it!” he called.

She hurried forward and picked up the Hylian Shield, sliding it onto her arm and bashing Fulgura across the face. Lady Fulgura, Gerudo chieftan and Yiga lieutenant, was knocked unconscious.

Canta looked back at him and opened her mouth, but Ravio was bearing down on him again and a newly shield-less Link was drawn back into the duel. Their swords clashed again, and Ravio flashed an evil smile that Link knew Ravio was never capable of. “I know plenty about you, Hero,” he snarled. “I know your heart aches from a terrible loss, and you see no end to that ache in sight. But I know a way to heal that.” 

Link crushed the blossom of hope in his heart. “You can’t do anything. Even if you could, she’s not of this world. Your power does not reach into Hyrule.”

“Says who?” Ravio’s smile softened and became kinder. “I could bring her back, Hero. If you bring me to her in your world, I can bring her back.”

_Mipha_. His fiancée could return, and they could have the life they had planned. She would rule Zora’s Domain with him quietly at her side, overseeing Hyrule’s beautiful reconstruction and living out decades until he died peacefully in her arms. He could have everything he and Mipha had wanted.

At the cost of Hyrule.

He shoved Ganon away and quickly reached down to scoop up the fallen Mirror Shield. “I won’t let you into Hyrule,” he shot back. “Not for anything! Ganon has already taken enough from our kingdom!”

He stepped forward as he spoke, punctuating each word with a strike. _“You will not take more!”_

Anger surged into his arms, renewing his strength and putting Ganon on the defense. Indeed, Ganon’s evil smirk disappeared as Link attacked, seamlessly escaping a parry and striking again. Caught up in the fury, Link cut deeply into Ganon’s side, red blood spurting from the gray skin…skin that was warming again, that was getting the color, the life back into it…

He fell to the ground, clutching his side. Link watched as Ganon retreated from Ravio’s face. The red faded from his eyes, which met his in fear and pain. “Link? What’s happening? You stabbed me!”

“Is it really you?” He kept his Master Sword steady, pointed at Ravio. “Prove it. Let go of your Sword.”

“I can’t! It’s the one holding onto _me!_ ” Ravio looked past Link, who took the chance and followed his gaze. Zelda was holding Hilda’s glowing hand, probably coaching her in using the sealing power.

When Link looked back at Ravio, he was disconsolate. “Ya gotta let her kill me.”

“No.” He knelt at his side. “We’ll free you, and then we’ll kill Ganon.”

“The pain’s helping some, but there’s no way I can hold him off for long.” The look he leveled at Link was the most somber and fierce one he had ever seen. “I’m not gonna be the thing that destroys Lorule. If I die in the blast, so be it.”

Ravio’s face screwed up suddenly, and his eyes burned scarlet again. He growled and leaped up, launching a flurry of swordplay at Link like nothing he’d brought out before. Ganon had quieted down, apparently deciding that words were a fruitless venture. All that was left was brute force.

Brute force would get all three of them—Link, Ganon, and Ravio alike—killed. Link had already died once to Ganon’s efforts, and he had no plans to allow Ravio to fall to the same fate.

“Link!”

He whipped his head around at Zelda’s call. Beside her, Hilda stood with Zelda’s bow extended. A bolt of bright, holy light rested on the bowstring where her arrow should be. It trembled in her shaking fingers, though the iron focus on her face was resolute. “Move!”

Hilda let the bolt fly. Arrows usually whistled through the air, but the arrow of light was as silent as it was quick. 

Right before it struck, Link lifted the Mirror Shield, absorbing the strike into the gleaming metal. 

“No!” Zelda hollered, abject horror on her face. “Link, what are you doing?”

“Ravio’s still in there. We can save him!”

And then Ravio’s arms wrapped around him from behind, Lorule’s Master Sword resting on his throat. “You’ll destroy your hero before me!” hissed Ganon. Link could hear the smile in his voice.

“No!” That was Canta’s voice, though Link couldn’t tell where she was coming from. Suddenly Ganon’s hold on him began to weaken, and Link managed to slip out of his grasp, spin around, and discover Canta with both hands on Ravio, sucking the life out of him. Her face was screwed up in effort—apparently even with her magic, Ganon was difficult to kill.

“Do something!” she pleaded. “Anything!”

He thought quickly. The Yiga were wearing down Durus and Ardali, who had touched down to aid his friend, and Link was sure to be their next target. He had a bolt of the sealing power ready to use, and a stall on Ganon that was weakening by the second.

It would have to be this way, then.

Link shoved Ravio to the ground, firmly placed his boot on his outstretched arm, and brought the edge of the Master Sword down hard on his hand.

He sliced cleanly and powerfully through Ravio’s arm until his hand was completely severed from his body. Ravio was screaming in pain, but the screams gained more and more humanity as the grayness in him faded, and his warm brown eyes came back in full force. The darkness lifted from Ravio like a cloud, crackling with hot-pink lightning as it churned in midair. The cloud rushed Link, surrounding him and blinding him to the ruins and the allies that had brought him here.

_Link?_ a voice whispered, a long-dead voice. _I miss you. I need to hold you again in my arms. Remember everything we wanted? Everything we planned to have?_

_You’re not Mipha,_ he breathed.

_Of course I am, Link. I know you want to hear me say your name again. I know you want to bring me back._

_I’m sorry, Mipha. I miss you._

His thumb found the button inside the Mirror Shield, releasing the holy light preserved within.

The darkness scattered in the presence of the light, the inhuman screaming shaking the walls of the Forgotten Ruins. The light of the sealing power even burned Link as he and Canta dragged an unconscious Ravio away from the fight, bleeding profusely from the stump of his hand. As he got the color back in his cheeks, Durus ran alongside them, hefting Ravio onto his shoulder in one fluid motion. “He’s still alive!”

“Good!”

But they had greater worries. The light had freed Link for a moment, but it had amassed into a massive cloud within the temple, roaring and screaming like nothing else. The Yiga were turning tail now, fleeing en masse from this horror they could never properly understand. Sheik was among the runners, but Ardali swooped down, caught her in his talons, and lifted her high into the air. She screamed and berated the Rito, but he dug his talons in deep and kept her imprisoned in his grasp. They, like the others, watched as Hilda fearlessly ran towards the cloud, hand outstretched. 

“Careful!” Link hollered after the princess, making to run after her. But a hand on his arm stalled him in place, and he looked and found Zelda there, her face hard.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “She can do it.”

Hilda firmly planted her feet in the now-abandoned courtyard of the temple, staring up at Ganon with her gleaming hand clenched. The cloud formed into the head of a boar, with two sharp tusks and gleaming pink eyes. It roared, “Fools! You freed me from that weak vessel!”

“You’re the fool!” Hilda yelled. “He was the only thing protecting you!”

She lifted her hand. Fiery golden light billowed out from it, as bright and hot as the sun, swallowing up the foul malice as it roared, loud and desperate. It filled the entirety of the ruined temple but passed over Link and the others like a summer breeze as it burned Ganon out of existence.

When the spots in Link’s eyes had cleared, all that was left of Ganon was a sword, a severed hand, and a resolute princess.

Link and Zelda looked at each other. Relief washed over him like a burst dam. Ganon had been contained within these ruined walls of the temple! Some lives were lost, but none of their forces, and no civilians. Lorule would not see a Great Calamity.

They sank into each other’s arms. “We did it,” he whispered. “We saved them.”

“We did,” she murmured back. “It’s over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you thought!!! This was the chapter I was super excited to write, and the idea that I always wanted to come to fruition. Double upload tomorrow for the final two chapters. Thank you so much for coming on this journey with me!


	18. Relief

Ravio awoke to a sunny day. It wasn’t the usual window he gazed through, but the window in the hospital wing. Yeah, that would explain the bed, too, but it didn’t explain the deep aching in his wrist or the pain in his side. Thankfully, though, a familiar pair of hands clasped his own. He’d know those hands anywhere. “Good morning, Princess.”

Hilda looked radiant in the light of the hospital wing. She lit up when he spoke, clutching his hand more tightly to her chest as she reached out and stroked his matted hair. “Good to have you back, my love.”

“You know me. Can’t keep ol’ Ravio down for—”

He broke off, for as he had lifted his right arm to reach out for Hilda, he had noticed with a jolt in his stomach that he no longer had a right hand; in fact, his arm ended in a clean-cut stump. The bandages were tight and fresh. “Whoa.”

“Yes, that.” She smiled at him. “It might take a little getting used to, but I’m sure we can find a way to outfit your laboratory with accommodations.”

Ravio was still pretty mixed up, his thoughts foggy, but the memories that came back to him were clear as day. He’d committed treason by going to the Forgotten Ruins and endangered Lorule by drawing the Master Sword. If not for Link’s quick action, Ganon would have conquered Lorule. And if not for Link’s mercy, Ravio would be dead. 

He gazed up into Hilda’s face, softer and more open than it had been in quite a while. “Shouldn’t I be punished? Why aren’t you punishing me?”

“I could never.” She combed her fingers through his hair. “I should be punished.”

“What for?” he balked. “You didn’t draw the Sword.”

“But I drove you to it.” Her face fell. “I’m sorry, Ravio. I was never good at keeping the peace, but I should have been kinder to people who had as tall a task as I, you most of all. I created Ganon in my own efforts to kill him.”

He squeezed her hand. “Either way, it’s me who’s going to the dungeon, not you.”

“Not quite.” She smiled at him again. “You’ve been out for a few days, Ravio. And in those few days, the others and I have managed to strike a few compromises.”

Hilda, compromising? Of course he’d be out like a light for it! Though he could tell in her voice that he’d get another chance to witness the phenomenon that was Princess Hilda of Lorule meeting someone in the middle. She was done being absolute. She was much warmer, and less proud, too.

Gratitude! That’s what that’s called.

“If we were ever to formally charge you with the crime of treason, our records would show that the others, key leaders from their provinces, had aided and abetted you. Since the fallen solely came from the Yiga clan, and since we managed to contain and eradicate Ganon before any major destruction, we have all agreed that it is in the best interest of our kingdoms and our people if you were not punished.”

Hilda had never bent a rule in her life, adhering strictly to the millennia-old laws and customs of Lorule. He shot her a sly grin as he said, “I dunno, Princess. I’m not keen on revising history.”

“It’s hardly a revision.” Hilda’s smile faltered again. “Now that we know Fulgura was working for the Yiga this whole time, it’s clear that she manipulated all of you into turning against me. She and Sheik will be charged, but no one else.”

He frowned, too. Fulgura had run excellent interference for the Yiga. He should have been suspicious when she, a proud leader of a warrior tribe, allied with him so strongly. He believed so much that he was the hero that it made sense when others joined his cause. But his cause was Fulgura’s cause, and if she had a likely hero, why not take a gamble that would save her people?

“I wish Fulgura had done it by force.”

“Don’t say that,” she said, frowning. “Why?”

“Because then I wouldn’t look like an idiot in Lorule’s history books.”

She chuckled. It sounded like music to his ears. “Always thinking big picture.”

Not really. He would rather be a coward than an idiot, but he would rather be an idiot than a victim. And as she pressed kisses first to his forehead and then, gently, to his lips, he knew he got out of this far luckier than he ought to have. Much luckier than even Link had hoped when he first took up his Master Sword. Speaking of which…

“Hilda,” he whispered, “what happened to the Master Sword? If we burned Ganon out of it…is it safe enough to use?”

“We returned it to its pedestal in the Ruins.” She stroked his hair again, her brow furrowing. “We thought it was safest. Only one person in Lorule can draw it again.”

“I’ll let it sleep.” His thumb stroked her hand. “What use is a sword in a lab, anyway? I can’t imagine it’s gonna be very useful when I’m mockin’ up a prosthetic hand.”

She kissed him again. “Always thinking big picture.”

 

&

 

“This is a joke.”

Fulgura drew herself up to her full height, considerably greater than the height of the Lorulean guard who had brought her the dreadful supper. “Stale bread and a drop of water? I am chieftan of the Gerudo, allies of the Lorulean crown for ages!”

The guard turned her back on her, marching to the end of the jailhouse. Fulgura paced the cramped cell, angrily tearing into the chunk of bread with her teeth. Once an exalted warrior and brilliant leader of her people, reduced to a rat in a too-small cage.

“Get used to it.” The voice in the cell across from her was bitter. “As soon as you’ve become useless to them, they pack you in here.”

“I don’t follow your orders anymore.” Following the will of the Yiga had landed her here. Hylia, what did her people think of her? It was all to protect them from the vile creature sitting before her! It was all for them!

“You’re right.” Sheik climbed to her unsteady feet and walked to the bars in her cell. The guards had interrogated Sheik for hours yesterday, and the fallen leader was still recovering from their malice. “We’re equals now. We can speak plainly.”

Fulgura snarled. “I’m not interested in speaking to you.”

“Hear me out.” Sheik came into the light, where she could clearly see her bloody lip and black eye. “The way I see it, we both have people to look out for. People we want to get back to.”

She scoffed. “Yours scattered as soon as Ganon appeared.”

“And you think yours will keep you on your pedestal?” She spoke with a vicious tone, shaking her head. “The way I see it, we both have people to win back. And we can win them back, Lady Fulgura.”

“How?” She nodded with her chin towards the guard. “The crown will see us imprisoned for life.”

“Not so fast. I think they did the one thing that would ensure their destruction.”

She frowned. “What’s that?”

The viciousness in Sheik’s voice transformed into a smile on her face. “They put us within talking distance of each other.”

Fulgura took another bite from her stale bread, and then she smiled.

 

&

 

Since it was a beautiful day out, it was only right that the evening’s celebratory feast was held on the veranda, where they could enjoy the sunset and each other’s company. The feast brimmed with plenty and the wine flowed like a river. Zelda was near the balcony, enjoying the fresh air and watching Durus and Ardali in the most genuine conversation she had ever seen them share. They were listening avidly to each other, talking like the oldest of friends trying to regale each other with tales of adventures. 

As Zelda enjoyed the breeze and the calm, her mind drifted back to the deal Hilda had struck with the others. It made their allies happy for now and punished the people responsible for Ganon’s rise, but all it would take was one keen reader of the history books, one eloquent and intelligent observer to point out the flaw in the compromise: that the people who made it out unscathed had ties to the crown, and, while they did incredible good, they had done some harm along the way.

Perhaps Loruleans were more forgiving of their rulers than Hylians.

“Excuse me, Princess.” Hilda sidled up to Zelda with two goblets of mead, extending one to her twin. “I was hoping we could speak for a moment.”

“Of course, Princess.” Zelda’s ears twitched. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“That we finally stop calling each other ‘Princess,’” she said with a smile. “Of all people to drop our proper addresses, I think you and I have the right to.”

Hilda smiled back. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“I bet you were.”

Hilda laughed, but her face fell quickly into something more somber and quiet. “Zelda, it’s no secret that I wouldn’t have been able to destroy Ganon without your help. If I didn’t have you guiding my use of the power, Lorule would have been lost.”

Zelda thought of her mother, whose loss had cost her years of proper training, and then countless lives, not least of all Link and the Champions. “I gave you what I wish I had had when our Calamity struck. No thanks necessary.”

“On the contrary.” Hilda looked shyly into her glass, swirling the mead around. “It is easy to grow bitter and jaded when we feel we’re lacking something we deserve. You were neither of those things with me, Zelda, even as I acted like a spoiled child. The fate of Lorule rested with you, and you ensured she was safe. I don’t think there’s anything I can do that will be enough to repay you.”

This business of repaying had always rubbed Zelda the wrong way. Her father had taught her to bank political favors and be wary of working for untrustworthy players, but she had never been one to keep a tally of kindnesses given and owed. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll ask you to do one thing and consider ourselves even.”

Her eyes widened. “Anything.”

“Pay it forward.” Link had been kind to her at the beginning of their friendship when she was frosty and angry, and he had never wavered in his dedication. Since then, he had become one of her closest friends, and a great teacher in his own right. “It’s something I’ve learned over the years. Kindness and patience are much better teachers than harsh discipline. Just remember that I was kind to you while you were pressuring us.”

Hilda’s face fell. “I’m sorry for my behavior. It was reckless and rude of me to do that.”

“I understand. And when Ardali becomes the elder of the Rito, it might help to remember to be kind to him in the tough time of transition.”

Durus was coming up behind Hilda, his footfalls rattling the stone beneath their feet. “Pardon me, Hilda,” he said. “Can I cut in? I just have a few words for our Hylian friend here.”

“Of course.” Hilda nodded her head. “You have my word, Zelda.”

She swept away. Durus waited until Hilda was out of earshot before turning to Zelda with a big grin. “I hope it’s not rude if I finally admit I underestimated you.”

“Not too rude,” she replied with a sly grin. “I’ve been underestimated before. But I thought you learned your lesson after we went to Death Mountain.”

“So did I!” He laughed loudly enough to scare the birds hiding in the eaves. “Gotta say, though. When you took charge in the Ruins and told us what to do and where to go—well, I never expected a general to look like a cub.”

“How young do you think I am?” she retorted, though she was glowing with pride. “Thank you, Durus. That’s very kind of you.”

And very out of the blue, too. Hylia knew Durus rarely said a positive thing _ever_ , much less about anyone!

“Then lemme say something else.” He stroked a curl of his beard as he added, “Hyrule is in very good hands.”

Zelda set her mead down on the banister. “I must ask for one more thing from you, Durus.”

“What’s that?”

She flung her arms around him. Durus, the stony leader of the Gorons, returned her embrace with the gentlest touch, wrapping his arms around her with the tenderness of a father.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“Don’t waste your time missing me.” He let her go right as she began to get winded. He was gentle, but he was still a _Goron_ , after all. “You’re gonna have a full plate with guiding your kingdom at all. Don’t do what I did and throw yourself into it, all right? Make time to be a kid, too.”

And Zelda smiled, because once upon a time, she knew someone very like Durus who would have said the same thing.

 

&

 

For one final time, Link was taking in the sunset from the training yard of Lorule Castle. The going-away dinner was happening, but he preferred quiet days and nights, and there had been so few of them since he and Zelda had made it to Lorule that he couldn’t pass up the chance to savor this one. The world was peaceful thanks to him in some small part, and he wanted to watch the fruits of the labor.

“Link?”

Canta’s voice danced over to him on the warm breeze. He turned and found the Zora princess walking towards him, wrapped in her cloak again.

He stood. “Hi, Canta.”

“Hi. You look…different.” She frowned, tilting her head. “Oh, that’s it. I’m used to seeing your Sword’s handle poking over your shoulder.”

For tonight, Link had left the Master Sword in his room. It was the first time he left it behind. “Well, there’s not much need for it anymore.” 

“You’re right.” She bit her lip, took a deep breath, and said, “I wanted to thank you for saving my life in the Forgotten Ruins.”

He waved his hand. “It was nothing.”

“No, it wasn’t.” She smirked at him. “Even if you’re used to it, saving lives isn’t insignificant.”

“I’m happy to see you alive. How about that?” He beckoned to the stone bench. “Wanna sit?”

“Sure.” They sat again and spent a few moments in the peace, until her quiet voice disturbed the waters again. “And I wanted to say goodbye before I leave.”

Everyone was leaving tomorrow. Zelda had already tried to collect all her research journal entries over their stay in Lorule for their own departure. Their means of returning home was much simpler and faster than the others. Zelda was hurrying to leave, eager to return to her throne, but he had convinced her to spend one more night to catch their breath. Was it so wrong to linger a few more hours?

“What does Zora’s Domain look like in your world?” she asked. “We have a settlement out under the ocean. Difficult to get to, but we conduct our trade on the coast.”

“It’s a magnificent structure of glowing stone. The legend is that the Zora carved it out of a whole mountain of the stuff.”

“Wow. Puts our temple to shame, I think,” she said with a chuckle. She turned to him, her voice lowered. “I’d like to see it. Could you take me?”

He tried not to smile too sadly. “Princess.”

“Worth a try.” She leaned against his shoulder. “I know it wouldn’t have worked, Link, but that didn’t stop my heart from hoping it could. We’re from two completely different worlds, first of all. And second…”

Second was his grief from losing Mipha. “Believe it or not, I understand,” she said. “At least, I can understand what it’s like to lose someone in circumstances totally out of my control. I would ask if you though it could work in another world, but it already has. And that’s precisely why it won’t work in this one.”

“I’m sorry, Canta.” He wrapped his arm around her. “You’re going to find someone great for you. Someone who’s not tied up in grief.”

“How do you know?” She gazed up at him again. “You’re an incredible man, Link. I don’t think there’s anyone out there like you.”

“I hope not. But I don’t think it matters how ‘great’ a person is.” He thought of Zelda, who was taking care of the minutiae he never tolerated in daily life. Zelda, who reminded him that Canta deserved better when his heart got the better of him. Zelda, who stuck with him through thick and thin, with whom he couldn’t imagine a future without.

“I think what matters is how your person helps you. Sometimes they balance you out, and sometimes you’re kindred spirits.”

“Someone who completes you.”

“Not quite.” He offered her a smile. “It’s someone who makes you better. They make you kinder or braver or more careful. The best kind of love is the kind that teaches you to be the best version of yourself.”

She was silent for a long moment, toying with the corner of the cloak. “Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“What did your fiancée teach you?”

He smirked. “She taught me how to swim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, apologies for the delay, IRL stuff is catching up with me. Also, the final part will be posted tomorrow! Thanks so much for coming with me this far!


	19. A Sunny Day in Hyrule

The sun shone, the birds sang, and Link, Zelda, Hilda, and Ravio were gathered in Lorule Castle’s library, which Hilda was combing with the Lens of Truth.

They had bid goodbye to their allies that morning on the drawbridge of the castle. Link hadn’t expected to make any sort of peace with any of them, but had found it one way or another with all of them. Most unexpected had been Ardali!

“It’s been an honor fighting at your side, Link,” Ardali had said that morning, bowing his head to Link. “The Rito of Lorule will remember your valor.”

“And the Rito of Hyrule will hear of yours.” Link bowed his head, too. “Fly safe.”

“And the same to you.” 

Beside him stood Zelda, who had been watching Durus disappear over the hills to the north, sniffling heartily. He nudged her with his elbow and teased, “I never knew you to get so sentimental, Princess.”

“Hush.” She had shot him quite the look—a bittersweet irritation that held no lasting power. “It’s going to be worse when we make our departure, I hope you know.”

But right now, as Hilda was preparing it, Zelda was remarkably dry-eyed. The heaviness in her voice more than made up for it.

“I wish we could keep in touch,” she said. “I wish we didn’t need a miracle to say hello.”

Ravio, who was out of the hospital, on his feet and back to his chipper self, flashed her a grin. “Then I think you should keep these. The Lens of Truth and the dagger.”

“What?” Zelda’s face lit up. “Those are your inventions, Ravio! They’re too remarkable to give up!”

“I got my research notes,” he soothed. “An’ I got the royal charter, which means I can recreate them without too much fuss. Besides, Lorule owes you a favor, and if those tools stayed on this side of the rift, we’d never know when you needed our help.”

“Thank you, truly!” Zelda exclaimed, her cheeks flushed. “They’re fascinating—I hope you won’t mind if our scientists can take a look at them? We may be able to recreate them on our own, too.”

“Sure, sure. As long as you give us a sample of that Sheikah tech ya got,” he replied, gesturing to the Slate. “Y’know, Princess, I think Hyrule and Lorule got a lot to benefit from each other.”

“I think so, too.”

Hilda called out from across the room all of a sudden. “Found the rift! Let me open it up.”

Zelda went to Hilda’s side to watch the miracle happen yet again, but Link lingered at Ravio’s side. “Hey, listen,” he said to his Lorulean counterpart, “it’s been great to meet you, Ravio. I wish you and Hilda—and Lorule, of course—all the happiness in the world.”

“Thank you.” Ravio smiled, but it faltered as his eyes skated over Link’s shoulder to the sight of Hilda. “We were honored to have you. We were lucky to have you, I should say. I dunno where we’d be if we didn’t have a real, proper hero.”

His eyes flicked to the floor. “Sorry. Don’t mean to be all sorry for myself. Trust me, I’m very grateful, but…”

But he couldn’t let go of the guilt, Link realized. Maybe he and Ravio weren’t so different after all.

Ravio looked away. “I just wish I had been the hero Lorule needed, you know? Nothing against you, of course, but I wish I’d been the guy to put Ganon in the ground.” 

His face fell as he added, “And it turns out, I was never meant to be a hero. I was just meant to be his victim.”

Link balked. Surely they had been present in the same battle! “You _are_ a hero!”

Ravio looked back up at him, silently surprised. His mouth twisted in uncertainty as he finally said, “I ain’t no hero. You saw what happened.”

“I did. And I saw you prepare to sacrifice your life for the good of others.” He leaned in closer. “Take it from someone who’s already done that. If there’s anything in any world that makes a hero, it’s that.”

Ravio’s face warmed considerably. “You don’t have to butter me up like this.”

“I don’t butter people up.” He withdrew his hand and stepped away. “If I’m honest, I was ready to believe you as the hero when you first flashed that dagger at us,” he said, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder to the princesses.

“Really?” Ravio said with a gasp.

“Yeah. My Master Sword got handed to me. It takes someone with a real gift and an iron will to make their own blade of legend. And trust me, buddy—that dagger is as magical as my blade.”

Ravio had flushed hotly, absently fingering the stump on the end of his arm. “I didn’t know you were so…verbose, Link.”

“I’m not.” He stuck out his hand. “You saved Lorule, Ravio, even if it doesn’t feel like it. Zelda and I felt the same after we sealed our Ganon away, and the whole point of our stay here was to make sure you two didn’t do what we did. It’s okay to be a victor, you know.”

He laughed aloud at that and shook his hand with gusto. “Thank you kindly, Link. Y’know, feel free to use that dagger to come say hello every once in a while.”

He grinned. “I’m sure we will.”

“Link!” Zelda called out from the other side of the room. “It’s time to go!”

The heroes walked over to the rift where, despite Zelda’s urgency, the princesses were sharing one last goodbye hug. “We will remember you forever, Zelda. Your heroism will live in our history.”

“And your legend will live in Hyrule’s.” They parted, each a little teary-eyed as Ravio took the Lens and the dagger from Hilda and handed them to Zelda. “If you ever need us, just say the word. I’ll hold you to that agreement for Sheikah tech, Princess.”

“Of course, of course.” Zelda looked at Link and reached out for his hand. “Come on. Paya must be tearing her hair out by now.”

“I bet.” He took her hand, and together they stepped into the light-filled rift, spiriting back to Hyrule.

Hilda and Ravio watched the rift until it sealed itself up and disappeared. Hilda waved a hand in the space the rift occupied, frowning. “I always expect it to be cold,” she murmured.

“Can’t always explain magic,” he replied coyly. “That’s the difference. You can explain science all you like, but definitely not magic.”

They pulled each other into their arms, weaving together like two threads in one tapestry, where they were simple pieces of a greater whole. He tucked her head under his chin and combed his fingers through her hair. 

“Lorule is safe again,” Hilda murmured. “And we all made it out alive. I almost can’t believe it.”

“Not that we suffered no losses,” he reminded, mirth evident in his voice. “Pretty significant, too, I think. Speaking of which, I wanna get on that prosthetic. I already got some ideas for it, and we have to work on recreating the Lens and the dagger, too—hopefully our friends will think of a better name for it—”

“Wait, Ravio.” She lifted her head again, running her finger along his chin. “Wait just a day, please? One more evening before you have to be inventor and advisor again. One more evening before I have to be the princess. I'd like to just be Hilda and make up for lost time with my Ravio. I love you for who you are, and that’s a brilliant, funny, always-positive, light-filled person. You’re exactly what a queen needs, and I was a fool not to realize that.”

“A _queen_.” Now that was a buzzword she didn’t throw around lightly. The difference between a princess and a queen was, frankly speaking, whether or not the monarch had produced an heir. And Princess Hilda, with whom fighting on the battlefield and risking her life for her people was a privilege and source of pride, hadn’t entertained such a thought before. “You mean—”

“Certainly not tonight!” she said, though her ears were twitching. “But I would like it very, very much if our future was headed that way.”

He smiled, slowly and widely. “That might be the rush of relief talking, Hilda. We should be careful with the promises we make, ‘cause you’re stacking my hopes very, very high.”

“We’ll see how we feel tomorrow.” She took him by his hand, leading him out of the library. “But tonight is for us.”

 

&

 

Link and Zelda arrived at the Saas Ko’sah Shrine in the bowels of Hyrule Castle. The docks were empty, but as they climbed up the stone corridor, they heard loud voices coming from the secret passageway to the Hyrule Castle Library. Specifically, one loud voice they had never heard above an urgent murmur.

Zelda lifted the Sheikah Slate to activate the Magnesis Rune, but Link held up his hand, staying her. He held his finger to his lips and leaned in, Zelda following suit.

“The Gerudo deserve far more than we’re giving them! Are we really so powerless that we let one rickety bridge steady our aid? We’ll send builders out to repair it, and then Gerudo Town’s drought will be solved! What is so complicated about that?”

Zelda, overcome with curiosity, activated Magnesis and pushed the bookcase concealing the passageway out. As they entered the library, they found Paya at the head of one of the tables, and the rest of their advisors cowering in shame.

Paya’s face went from red with rage to white as a sheet in a heartbeat. “Princess Zelda! Link! We weren’t—welcome back!”

She ran towards them and enveloped them both in a hug. “Oh, it’s so good to see you! I did my best with keeping everything running smoothly, Zelda, but I don’t know how you do it! It’s so stressful! I can’t imagine doing this for years and years!”

Link looked over her shoulder and laughed as the advisors caught their breath, happy for the distraction. “I don’t know, Paya. You seem pretty well-suited for it after all.”

 

Paya insisted on whipping up a homecoming celebration for them after their weeks away from the throne. In their absence, it had become decently common knowledge that the princess and the hero were away, and it would do Hyrule good to see them safely returned. Apparently, as Paya told Link the night they had returned, rumors had begun to fly that they had stolen away for an extravagantly long honeymoon together, with guesses of the destination ranging from Zora’s Domain to the impenetrable Great Plateau. Link knew that the complete story of their adventure in Lorule would not become public knowledge anytime soon, and that on the whole, there wasn’t much to be gained by spelling it all out. So Hylians would just have to settle for the fact that Link and Zelda were called away for a higher purpose.

And Link was surprised the rumors didn’t bother him very much.

Between regaling Link and Zelda with her own tales of regent-hood, Paya had assembled a magnificent celebration in New Castle Town, somehow grander and lovelier than Zelda’s birthday. And just like her birthday, Zelda was dancing and prancing along with the residents, enjoying herself exactly as a victor should.

Link was smiling this time. Last time, he had had that dreadful premonition of Ganon hanging over him, but he had also had the loss of Mipha and the other Champions weighing upon him. Seeing them alive again and being able to spell out his own goodbyes had done his heart some good. Part of him would never let go of Mipha, but the rest of him knew that it was okay to smile again without her. She would want it, and Canta would want it, too.

Zelda, looking radiant with Silent Princesses woven into her hair, danced up to him. “Unless you’ve had another prophetic vision in the night,” she said, extending her hands, “you have no excuse not to dance with me this time.”

He chuckled. “I’m not much of a dancer, Princess.”

“That’s all right.” Her green eyes were shining. “Follow my lead. I can dance enough for the pair of us.”

He thought back to his final words to Canta. He had thought he loved her, sure, but that love was greedy, grief-stricken, and ultimately dangerous for both of them. But their final conversation still rang true. _What matters is how your person helps you…the best kind of love is the kind that makes you the best version of yourself._

Link had learned to put stock in signs, prophecies, divine guidance, and the like. Maybe the best version of himself was a good dancer.

He took her hands, and she pulled him into the dancing crowd. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Hyrule and Lorule were safe. Link had fought Ganon twice and lay down his life once for days like this to exist. It was days like these that made sacrificing easy. The kingdom was truly alive, thriving on the happiness of its monarch which was sure to infect all of Hyrule. Yes, Link had witnessed the beautiful marriage of magic and science, the incarnation of hatred, and divine interference, but there were few forces in Hyrule, he could swear, that were more powerful than Princess Zelda and Link, fighting together for all that was good and true. 

Destiny may have tied their paths into one, but Link would choose to walk it, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read along with me! This was an ambitious project that I'm really proud of, and I'm so thrilled to see its conclusion. Thanks so much for reading and commenting--and if you have sequel ideas, let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is going to be a pretty long project, but updates should come every day or every other day. Lemme know what you think in the comments!


End file.
